Hand to the Fire
by speedfanatic05
Summary: A choice. The repercussions. Their solution...If only it were that easy. Fem!Ed x Roy. AU Rated M.
1. Prologue

A/N: I was bored and the inspiration for my other works has gone into hiding. So I did the only logical thing- started a new story!

Pairing: Fem! Ed x Roy

Warning: Language, sexual activity, and violence.

Rating: M

Disclaimer: Not making a dime.

Summary: A choice. The repercussions. Their solution...If only it were that easy. Fem!Ed x Roy. AU

Hand to the Fire

Prologue

The feeling of his warmth enveloping me as he sleeps, the rhythmic cycles of his breath practically daring me to escape his grasp are the sensations that greet me as I surface from a deep sleep. Blinking rapidly, I focus on the wall, waiting and somewhat hesitant to even shift minutely, knowing that he'd do the same. I don't want this moment to end, this salient peace that neither of us have fully known. The serenity is addictive, luring. It's incomprehensible, even on our slowest days.

Alchemist be thou for the people- that's the military's axiom yet no one takes it as seriously as I do. As the Fullmetal Alchemist, I am to be the people's alchemist, their voice, their strength. It keeps me busy, and more often than not, I find myself in predicaments that would make men tremble. Every day, I flit from one mission to another, every second a testament to a life that is not truly mine to live, not until I cease to be useful. My title, although all together bad ass, is just a reminder that I'm merely a dog of the military and I exist in this capacity only because the powers that be desire such a formidable weapon, one they can wield at a moment's notice. His title...well, his is a bit more complicated.

Hell, our relationship is a shit storm of complications.

I grimace.

If there's nothing more I hate, its complications. Simplicity, logic, tenacity, fortitude- those are the tenets that I _strive_ to adhere to in life. I was never one to heed to the power of stern discipline; I only learned because I wanted to, seeking knowledge to further my own pursuits. I've lived my life on my own terms, never conceding, never waiting- always forging ahead on my own merits. I've fought for what _I_ thought was the good of the people, even though those actions didn't necessarily correspond to the orders given. Yes, I've gotten into a fair share of trouble, and most of the time, my commanding officer would rather dismiss me than deal with me but I've never compromised who I am. Title be damned, I would always be Edaline Elric.

I think that's why he chose me. Out of all of the women in his life, all the opportunities, none of them presents such a challenge as me. Every rebellious word, every obstinate gesture suffuses him with a voracious lust as if my defiance- and his subsequent authoritative posturing- is an aphrodisiac. I'd be lying if I'd said that I didn't do some of these things to tease him. A small part of me relishes the fire that burns within his eyes when he looks at me, the thought that he could eat me alive at a moment's notice. But the other part of me is disgusted that he's come to view me as trivial as a game of comeuppance. As if I'm something to achieve and dominate instead of engage and love but such is our relationship- it defies all conventions. I'm sure he loves me in his own, pea-brained way. The simplicity of this set up was that we thrived on the thrill of testing each other's limits, of toeing that farcical line between decency and debauchery under the mere guise of subordinate and commanding officer.

Now, it's an entirely different story.

The bed shifts suddenly. His embrace tightens and I can feel his breath as it breezes over the outer shell of my ear. His hand drifts downward, those lethal fingers of his dancing delicately across my skin. The heat radiating from his body affects me to the point where I squirm slightly and my ass bumps into his crotch. A feral growl rumbles in my ear and his lethargic caress eases upward, tickling my side before cupping my breast. Gently, he thrums my taut nipple and I shut my eyes tightly, working against the desire to turn around and give him what he's blindly seeking. As the ministrations slow, I bite my lip to stave any sound, hoping that he'll simply go back to sleep and let me have my moment of silence. Thankfully, his breathing returns to that rhythmic cycle and his hand slackens, but just barely. One false move and this serene moment of respite will come to a decisive end.

Don't get me wrong, I love every waking moment with him. Just a glance of that cocky swagger and his arrogant smirk, or hell even the twinkle in his dark blue eyes and I'm reduced to a puddle of wanton desires. Yet, in this moment, in the gloaming of a new day, I relish this time alone. It allows me the time to think about the trappings of life. Of the path that I have taken, the path that still lies ahead. In all those musings, I think about us.

Us.

I never thought that I'd be a part of an us.

A small snicker escapes my lips and I freeze as his arm coils around me even tighter. I've got to be careful or our morning routine will include a heaping dose of sinful pleasure- not that I'm complaining, mind you. I just want to enjoy the solitude while I can. I can return to my duplicitous role, to being a part of something that, at its essence, shouldn't exist later. I can return to being _us_ when the curtains rise- right now, I just want it to be _me_.

I exhale softly as I watch him, tempted to allow my fingers to trace the lingering furrows in his brow. We're on separate journeys, yet our paths converged. A part of me wonders if trading my life for this was worth it. Watching him slumbering peacefully, feeling his warm arms around me, I know that I made the right decision.

Now, I just have to live with it.

As he settles back down, I stare out at the shafts of sunlight filtering in through the curtains, watching as the dust particles dance in midair. I focus on a singular particle, observing how it twists at the whim of the air around it, inadvertently intermingling with the others. That's a bit how I feel most times; I've always been the lone wolf, never giving credence to others, yet thrust into the maelstrom despite my singular objective. Nothing, no one mattered more than giving my brother his body back and as such, I took to the insular life I'd carved out for myself and never looked back. I'd often thought that I'd be alone in this world and oddly, that thought comforted me. It was as if it were my penance for all of the shit I'd stirred up. I was better off alone.

That was bullshit though.

When Alphonse did get his body back, he wanted to move, to taste the flavors I'd already tasted, and feel the winds of roads that I'd already traveled. He wanted to experience the world on his own merit and I...well, I didn't have any desire to retread over the same path. As such, he took to the rails in search of new discoveries and I finally experienced something new: The magnitude of abject loneliness.

I was heartbroken but willing to forge on. I finally squared with the knowledge that I needed to keep moving; I had no designs on putting down roots, no desires for consistency. Simply put, the wanderlust that had consumed most of my childhood had become superior to everything else and I was more than willing to allow it dominion.

That was until that fateful day.

Yes, as corny as it seems, there's a fateful day. It was as normal as any day; the sun was shining, the temperature comfortable and the people of Central pleasant. I can remember thinking to myself how weird it was to wake up and not have to punch my way out of a situation. I'd awaken peacefully, taken the time to eat breakfast and meandered about the city before deciding to make an appearance at the office.

It was a normal day with the exception of what I carried with me.

That day, I was going to make a change, one that would alter my life's trajectory completely. Clutched in my hand were resignation papers and with a bold step forward, I took the steps two by two, ready and willing to leave my title, my life in the Amestris military, behind. I was on the precipice of a new adventure.

Then I opened the door.

Then the hell that was to become my life revved up to full blast.

In hindsight, I realize that I was powerless to stop it.


	2. Chapter One

**Warnings: Second verse, same as the first. Be warned: Copious amounts of language, sexual activity, and most assuredly, violence ahead.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist... But I do own my love for this particular ship. Yeah, that's totally mine.**

 **N/A: Image courtesy of Pinterest.**

 **Hand to the Fire**

 **Chapter One**

I stood at the door, my clutched hand poised to knock as my heart threatened to burst out of my chest. I'd purposefully waited to do this, knowing that the office would be blissfully deserted during the lunch hour. I glanced around at the deserted desks, the phantoms of their occupants hovering, their ghostly voices echoing through my mind. A small giggle escaped as I turned my attention back to the ominous door, the many escapades of the past filtering through my memory. A dull ache grew in my chest and the smile I'd had since leaving my apartment dropped and I clutched the papers in my other hand tighter, resolute in my decision. Change was inevitable and happened as readily as the wind blew yet, I still hesitated. I'd occupied this world for ten years; the blood, sweat, and tears shed with them were as much a part of the tapestry of my life as my brother but I'd come to understand that I'd outgrown it.

Just like Alphonse had outgrown me.

That was a painful, yet true reminder of just how much had changed and it turned my stomach. Alphonse had emerged from the hell that I pushed him into all those years ago with a voracious hunger for discovery. He hadn't hesitated, forgoing lamenting his misfortune for action. As soon as he was well enough, he took off to parts unknown, reveling in his new found freedom. Sure, he called and wrote as he could but, truthfully, it was a tremendous blow to my ego that his every moment wasn't spent thinking about me. We'd been tied to the hip and I'd been his rock, his solid foundation for so long; the idea of separating was a foreign notion, one I'd never thought he'd act on.

But, he did. And I was set adrift with only my regrets to keep me afloat.

 _Careful, Ed, your hubris is showing..._

Shaking off my egocentric thoughts, I took a deep breath and exhaled heavily as I rapped my knuckles lightly against the dense wood, grimacing at its soft echo. Anger suffused through my body my fist hovering precariously, half hoping that he'd heard it, hoping that I wouldn't have to suffer the humiliation of having to knock again. I wanted to do this quickly, yet the returning silence mocked my desires. I bit my lip in an effort to stop the influx of emotions that were welling within me. I debated whether to come back at the end of the day when the office would be empty. But that wouldn't work; knowing him, he was probably watching the clock plotting his own escape.

It was now or never.

Yet I couldn't muster the strength to knock again.

 _Don't fucking punk out now, Elric. This is what you want, right?_

I cringed at the internal vitriol and thrust my hand recklessly against the wood in response. This was a path that I'd decided on, one I was ready to take. Then why was I wavering at the last minute?

 _It's because you're not really ready to let go, Edaline. You're not ready to leave him..._

Fuck. That.

I knocked harder, this time with a triumphant smile breaking across my face. There was no way in hell that I carried a torch for him. No way would I cop to entertaining even a sliver of emotion for him other than contempt.

Well, there was a little bit of lust involved; we flirted- _heavily_ \- and there'd been a distinct carnal look in his eyes when I defied his command and did my own thing. But there was no longing, no lingering effects of a requited attraction. There was no thrill in stoking his lurid gaze.

 _But you did it so well, you fucking liar._

"Goddammit, Mustang, where the hell are you?" I bit out furiously. Again, silence.

Giving it to him face to face was just a formality, really. In person or on a document, he'd understand my intentions. Truthfully, it was better this way, impersonal even. The lesser of two evils as it were.

Who was I kidding, though? Just leaving it on his desk for him to find was tantamount to cowardice. Tucking my tail and running wasn't my standard, never would be. If he wasn't in, I'd wait him out. I owed him enough to own up to my decision and face him like a woman. If anything, I could say that I left with my dignity intact.

Why didn't I feel better about this?

Determined, I gripped the knob and turned, pushing the door inward. The door connected solidly with something and a soft grumble met my ears. I looked up to see him standing there, his eyes screwed shut, the familiar grimace affixed on his face.

"Try just a little bit harder to kill me next time, Fullmetal." He rubbed his forehead tenderly, his eyes opening slowly. His voice lacked the usual bite, the words coming off as more of a burden than a reprisal.

The intended ridicule died on my lips as I looked to him, observing that his usually cunning eyes were dull with despondency. Startled, I lowered my head and cleared my throat soundly. The strained silence reverberated painfully between us, yet I couldn't find the words, my hand desperately clutching at the papers I'd meticulously filled out the night before. Suddenly, the surety of my decision faltered and I found myself tumbling into oblivion. I fully expected a supercilious Mustang, his gaze practically dripping with arrogance. What I faced was one filled with ambiguity.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your company, Ed?" The query was hollow, yet well intended and I lifted my eyes to see a ghost of his smug smirk tracing across his lips. "Judging by the late hour, it's obvious that you're not working."

The uncertainty dissipated quickly, his burgeoning aloofness spiking my annoyance. It was then that I remembered the resignation. Scowling, I pressed the papers against his chest, "This says that I'm done with that arrangement."

At once, the smug demeanor slipped away, replaced by confusion and a certain amount of hurt. He hadn't even looked at the papers yet he inherently knew what they meant. He held my gaze as he grasped at the document as if attempting to ascertain if I was serious or not. After a moment of stilted quiet, he asked, "A-are you sure this is the best option, Ed?"

Best option? I shifted my weight as I crossed my arms about my chest, the disinterest evident in my voice, "There isn't any other option, Mustang. I'm moving on. I've outgrown this."

Even as the words left my lips, my treacherous heart thundered in response. I kept my eyes on him, watching as he finally dipped his gaze to the papers, his brow furrowing deeply. In the span of seconds, the hurt segued into muted fury; the almost imperceptible tick at the corner of his lips a good indication that things were not well.

"Dishonesty doesn't look good on you, Edaline." His words dripped with sort of arrogance that made me want to throttle him but the way my name left his lips provoked something else entirely and that only served to aggravate me even more. I clenched my fist but restrained. There was no need to get tossed on my ass when I was quitting.

I winced slightly at that, reminding myself that quitting wasn't a part of my DNA. Still the same, I just wanted him to sign the damn papers already. I schooled my expression, watching as he nonchalantly perused the document, his chest rising and falling slowly as if leisurely reading the morning paper. The illusion of calmness belied the absolute rage churning in his eyes, the tempest of emotions playing hell on his appearance. As much as his words were meant to spur me on, I had a feeling there was something more to his prodding- as if he were pleading in his own way for me to reconsider. The ominous silence that hovered made me angrier and I took a step toward him, misjudging the allure of his close proximity.

Enshrouded within his intoxicating scent, our eyes met and almost immediately, the obstinacy diminished. His eyes reflected the maelstrom of complexity that I'd secretly loved about him; although strong, his gaze held a hint of vulnerability- and call me crazy but I loved people that I simply couldn't figure out. This was the crux of my situation. Our relationship, if that was what it could be called, functioned more on a debased level rather than intimacy. He was a conceited, idiotic son of a bitch who reveled in pulling rank at will and I was ever the instigator, ready- and willing- to incite his fury just for kicks. Yet there was a semblance of primal attraction that ran concurrent with the humiliation. It was sadistic and somewhat insane but it worked.

"There are better ways to get out of a mission." He continued lackadaisically, "I didn't think you'd sink to cowardice."

"This isn't about some mission, Colonel- and who the fuck are you calling a coward?"

"I would think that you'd be able to come to me if there was something bothering you. Fullmetal..."

"Here, I'll do you one better." Livid, I snatched the documents out of his hand and entered his office, intent on finishing this in one swoop. "I'll go the extra mile."

Naturally, his desk was littered with papers and files, the mountainous barricade almost hiding the occupant from view. I exhaled heavily. There wasn't a guarantee that my resignation wouldn't fall prey to his legendary procrastination but I'd done my part. I had presented him with my resignation, hand delivered it even. All he had to do was sign.

I slammed the document down and waited. The silence was infuriating but necessary; up until this point, I was firm in my decision but caught in the crosshairs, my certainty had become problematic.

Lost in my thoughts, I didn't hear him approach until he was on me, his hands grasping my arms tightly. His touch was electric, the sensation of the warmth emanating from his hands igniting a small flame within me. I bit my lip to stave a small cry as he spun me around to face him. I stared at the floor, afraid to look. The air was alive with expectancy, yet neither of us made a move. My worthless heart pounded against my chest and I scowled in frustration. His touch spoke more than words could ever but I wanted to shatter this moment, to walk away while my heart still pulsed within instead of beating outside my chest. Exposed to his discerning eye, to his tender touch, I would falter in my determination. Even now his fortitude was tangible; I could feel his piercing gaze on me, his grip easing into a caress as his hands massaged my arms. It was a silent plea of understanding and I was falling for it. The words that I _wanted_ to say died on my lips and I shook my head, casting my gaze sideways. He'd never understand the reasoning.

"Nice try, Mustang but I've made up my mind. I'm done." I tried to step out of his grasp but he brought me closer, his hand gently tracing the side of my face. My eyes slid shut and I shuddered as he leaned forward, his lips glancing off of my ear.

"Do you trust me, Ed?" His hand was on the move again, tracing downward to my chin. He lifted it slightly, centering his gaze with mine. Sincerity shone through his eyes along with a generous amount of trepidation. I searched his countenance, puzzled at his odd behavior. This _never_ happened and this sudden development revved up my anxiety in more ways than one.

I attempted to push him away but he countered- in the most remarkable of ways.

He pulled me into a kiss. Taken aback at first, I struggled against him, twisting my body away from him, determined to break the spell that he was casting. It was a futile effort though; his arms drew me closer, smothering me with his own combustible heat. His deft touch and his demanding embrace tempered my internal battle. As with anything that challenged fire, I yielded to the explosive power, waiting to be devoured.

The kiss…his lips were firm, yet invitingly gentle, giving and taking in tandem. I willingly followed the path to oblivion, breaking his embrace and looping my arm around his neck. He grunted against my lips and I nearly erupted. In response, my fingers slipped through the silky strands of his hair that dusted the nape of his neck as a lustful moan escaped my own lips. His arms drifted downward, tightening around my waist, effectively trapping me against him. In what started out as sweet and subdued quickly escalated into rough and passionate with the both of us dueling for supremacy. My body pulsated with desire, all thoughts of the unnecessary banished as I poured myself into him.

As quickly as it had started, it was finished. He'd slowly pulled away, our lips parting slightly. For a brief, euphoric moment, we shared the same breath and I was left spell bound. He gazed down at me and smiled- not the snobbish smile I was used to but one that was infused with warmth and…something else.

"Roy." The softness of my voice startled me. My body trembled; the heat that he'd stoked refused to die down. This feeling, this sensation was foreign to me yet I was craven for more. Confused at the turn of events, I parted my lips to speak but he stopped me, pressing his finger against my throbbing lips.

He caressed my cheek lovingly and shook his head, "Just know that I have a reason for everything that I do, Edaline."

And like that, he let me go.

Dumbfounded, I watched as he rounded his desk and took a seat, his eyes never wavering or rising to meet mine. He took up his pen and began his leisurely perusal of the form in front of him, pausing only to regard me with a soft sigh. I didn't need his words to tell me what I'd known: He was done with me.

Furious, at his cruel dismissal, I lunged forward only to stop myself. I'd done what I came to do and I was pretty certain that he'd sign the papers and they'd be filed in no time. Hurriedly, I turned on my heels and trudged toward the door, at a loss for words.

No, I had a word for him, three in fact.

"Fuck you, Mustang."

And with that, I swung the door open and strode through it, slamming it behind me. Tears threatened to swell and fall but I pushed those pesky emotions deeper even as my bruised lips pulsated with need.

"Hey, what's up, Chief?" I looked up quickly to see Havoc and Fuery walking in followed by Falman and Breda.

Schooling my expression even further, I wiped away the few tears that dared to escape and muttered, "Nothing. You…you guys take care, alright?"

If they'd replied, I didn't hear it. I didn't waste time, beating a hasty retreat out of the office, hoping that the tears would remain at bay until I'd gotten safely away.

He was right. I'm a fucking coward.

* * *

I was asking for that, I know that now. I didn't have to face him, I didn't have to engage in conversation, yet I believed that he'd been owed that at least. As much as I'd been an asset, I'd been that much more of a pain in the ass. Destroying and causing mayhem at will, I did so because I knew that the culpability would sit squarely on his shoulders and I could claim plausible deniability. So as a means of apology, I'd thought that hand delivering the one document that should've given him a cause to celebrate would've been easy. He would've smiled and sent me on my way, glad to be rid of me once and for all.

I don't think I could categorize his response as joy but damn if it didn't feel like a slap in the face. His abrupt dismissal still vexed me, the connotation of his silence conflicting directly with the wealth of emotion that he'd conveyed in that all too brief kiss. His entire demeanor had been completely off; instead of ridiculously arrogant, he'd been oddly subdued. The irritating sharpness of his words had been dulled by an undercurrent of worry. His eyes had been flat and his body language reflected not a man of superior power but of one who'd summarily accepted defeat.

That wasn't the Roy Mustang I'd come to know.

A raucous laughter pulled me out of the mire of my thoughts and I turned toward the noise, the cloudy thoughts slinking away as the bar came back into focus. Many of the patrons were well on their way to drunk, the more rowdy of the bunch situated to the right from my perch at the bar. I eyed the group, envying the effortless guffaws of the men and the coquettish titters of the women, as if the worries of the world were none of their business. The predatory gazes of the women glancing knowingly between each other and their benefactors told the real story; the wicked lure of absolute debauchery and a few cenz made the merriment that much sweeter adding to the cacophony of the revelry.

The bar stunk of stale beer and cigarettes and the tables and chairs hung on by a sliver of a chance but that didn't stop the carousing.

This place was perfect roost for the night; full of shadows and wholly unassuming, the semi crowded space, loud music, and hovering cloud of smoke provided just enough cover to remain incognito. If I was by some stroke of luck recognized, the drunken regulars would drown any query. Exactly the thing I needed at the moment to forget.

With a nefarious grin, I returned to my own drink, lifting it to my lips and tossed it back unceremoniously, slamming the glass onto the darkened wood, the satisfying burn of the liquor burning a trail downward. I wasted no time in raising two fingers, happy as a fucking lark that the bartender was making his way over. I was tottering on the precipice of sobriety, my body finally having lost its stiffness a few minutes- or perhaps hours- ago. I was going to call it a night soon but I wanted to make sure that I was well and proper numbed before departing. The last thing I needed or wanted were his words and empty gazes haunting the corners of my slumber.

"Gettin' close to that time," the bartender remarked indifferently as he poured two fingers of the amber liquid into my glass. I watched as the liquor flowed seamlessly into the glass, its pungent aroma and hypnotizing movements tuning out whatever he had said to me. He slammed the bottle down and I cut my eyes to it, noticing that a little less than a fifth of the bottle was left- just enough to finish the job right.

"Close but not there yet," I responded soundly. I picked up the glass and sloshed it around, enjoying the freedom of the liquid even as it was confined. In a way, I was this glass of whiskey; moving fluidly among the parameters of life, clinging half-halfheartedly to the slippery slope of intimacy. A quick flash of Roy's smoldering midnight blue eyes surfaced and I scoffed, lifting the glass once again. The liquor seared its path downward and I hissed with pleasure, the heat from the alcohol suffusing through every nerve of my body. Without hesitation, I nodded again. The glass remained woefully empty, the remnants of the potent liquor pooling at the bottom.

"Whatever it is, maybe you should sleep it off, eh?"

I glared at the man as I leaned back some, feeling as my balance faltered some. I caught myself with an outstretched arm as my other hand slipped into my pocket, searching for my wallet. After a few missed attempts, I finally pulled it out successfully, opening it with a loose flourish. I smiled lazily, content in knowing that the alcohol was finally working.

Readjusting myself, I flipped open the leather and slipped out what remaining bills I had, sure that I had enough to cover what I'd drunk and the remainder of the bottle. A prudent spender with a disposable income to use at will, I wanted for nothing. Springing for a good bottle of whiskey seemed like a great way to splurge.

I slapped the bundle of bills on the sticky wood and grinned, "This sh-should cover the rest. I'm celebrating, after all." His eyes drifted to the wad and I smirked, knowing that he wouldn't pass up an offer like that. When he looked to me again, I nodded, "Should be enough to cover the bottle and a ride home."

He snapped up the bundle and counted it boldly, stepping back a bit. "Just let me know when you want me to call a cab. I'll make sure you get to it safely."

I quickly poured another and regarded him with a smile, "You're a good man…"

"David," he supplied as he tucked the money in the stained apron. He then picked up his towel and moved on, glancing back at me, "Whatever's on you, young lady, you'll have to face it sooner or later."

"I'd much rather later." I lifted the drink in thanks as he chuckled and walked away, his eyes drifting over his establishment. The piano player pounded the keys, the bar coming alive in song. The table at the right had gone quiet and I turned to see it deserted, the women leading the drunken men with their promises of sinful pleasure.

A night like any other, evidence that the world kept turning even as my own had stilled.

* * *

I made my way down the dimly lit passageway, clutching the remnants of the whiskey firmly in my hand as I fumbled in the pocket of my leather jacket for the keys to my flat. Stumbling slightly, I chuckled aloud, the sound reverberating off of the walls. I pulled my hand up to my lips swiftly, nearly knocking myself out with the bottle in the process. Of course, this made me laugh harder and I paused and leaned into the wall to let the wave of gaiety pass, my fingers grasping clumsily to the ring of keys in my pocket. I pulled them out and crowed triumphantly the sound echoing down the empty. Surprisingly, no one opened their doors to chastise me and I giggled again, pushing myself off of the wall to start walking- or something similar. I could feel myself listing to the right and then the left in tandem, putting a temporary spin on the world.

"Couldn't finish the bottle but I'd say mission accomplished," I muttered as I soldiered on.

I steadied my gaze forward, focusing on a shadow hovering near my door. At first, I couldn't tell if it was the play of the moon's rays filtering in through the lone window at the end of the passage or if there was someone actually standing there. Although inebriated to capacity, I still squared myself- as much as I could at this juncture- and approached cautiously. One foot in front of the other in a surprisingly steady gait, the shadow began to take on definition as I moved forward. I narrowed my eyes as the form moved, its profile silhouetted by the ghostly glow of the moonlight. It was then that I noticed the tousled inky hair and sharp nose.

I stopped in my tracks, my eyes watching as the form came closer, the light, yet seductive scent of burnished amberwood filling my senses. I clutched the bottle tightly in my fist, half tempted to slam it against his skull, his phantom voice echoing in my brain. Closing my eyes against the voice, I banished it to the depths as I started walking. With any luck, he'd disappear just as quickly.

Just as I passed by him, I caught the lingering hints of alcohol as it permeated the air, nearly suffocating his alluring aroma. Ignoring him and the worry that surged to the surface, I walked on.

"I waited for you, Ed." His voice…that damned voice even roughened with alcohol was enthralling. My heart pulsated to life, thumping viciously against my chest. I didn't know what to say or what to do so I just stopped. I could feel him approach, his warm hand gently covering my shoulder. I shrugged it off, spinning around to face him only to find myself falling backwards. Steeling myself for the impact, I closed my eyes and waited, vaguely aware that I hadn't cracked my head against the hardened wood. When I opened my eyes, they locked with his, the moon providing just enough illumination to see the genuine concern shining through. For a brief moment, I contemplated staying there.

That was until the silence reminded me why that was a bad idea.

Seething, I drew away, my teeth clenched, "Let me go, you bastard!"

"Ed, you're drunk…"

"Stellar observation, asshole," I bit back, "now get your fucking hands off of me."

Instead of complying, he steadied me, pulling me closer as he wrapped his arms around me, the trace of alcohol evident on his breath. "Let me help you, Edaline."

"Go fuck yourself, Mustang." I pushed away, successfully dislodging myself. I turned away angrily, my eyes focused on my door. Safety was only a few feet away; if I could get there, I could shut him out of my life forever. "You've done enough already."

"Please." He was right behind me, his arms caressing my shoulders and downward until he reached my hands. His deft touch robbed me of the bottle first and then took the keys out of the other. His close proximity was maddening, the heat wafting off of his body reigniting the smoldering flame I'd try to suffocate with alcohol. He leaned against me, the tiny clinking of the keys echoing in my ears. It wasn't long before he'd disengaged the locks and opened the door, revealing my simple living quarters.

He stepped in front of me, taking my hand leading me in silently. Just inside the threshold, he closed the door behind me and reached for my hand again. I snatched it away maliciously , my eyes stayed on the floor. My body was pulsating with want but my injured heart and rational mind were apprehensive.

"Why?" I questioned softly. It was an open ended question, yet I suppose he understood the connotation. He dropped my hand and reached for my cheek, cupping it lightly, his roughened thumb caressing my skin. His gentle touch provoked tears but I refused to let them fall. Blinking them away, I asked again, "Why?"

He exhaled heavily as he closed the distance, tilting my head upward. I didn't want to look and I closed my eyes against his prodding gaze, bending my lips inward. His thumb continued its exasperating trek. He cupped my other cheek, "I never do anything without purpose, Ed."

"There's a reason why you kissed me?" My voice was faint, the hammering of my heart against my chest drowning the words. I awaited his response but there was none. The source of the heat dissipated and I opened my eyes slowly, bereft to see that he wasn't standing in front of me. My eyes searched the darkness for his form, seeking, craving the delectable sensation of his body flush against mine.

Suddenly, I was turned and pressed against the door, his presence looming over me. My heart raced, not out of fear but titillation. His lips skimmed the shell of my ear as his hands worked quickly to divest me of my jacket, his fingers glancing against my flesh as he stripped it downward. I breathed outwardly, graciously taking in the heady aroma of his desire, biting my lip hard to stave a cry of pleasure. His touch was everywhere as his lips claimed its dominion, drifting from my ear to the slope of my neck, his teeth nipping at my goose pimpled flesh.

"R-Roy," I moaned as his hand snaked underneath my tank to capture my laced covered breast. He squeezed and I shuddered, his dark chuckle filling the air between us. His other hand reached for my braid, winding it in his hand and lifted it as he plundered the scope of my skin, maneuvering from one exposed shoulder to the other. My hands itched to do something, anything to alleviate the building pressure but in this position, I was powerless to move. Planting them against the hard wood, I pushed back only for him to counter, pressing his firm body against mine, effectively pinning me.

"Please allow me this moment, Edaline, just this moment."

Inclined to acquiesce, I grunted as his questing fingers rolled my hardening nipple, stoking the inferno within. I could feel the release of that warmth pooling as his nipping segued into full-fledged bites. I arched back, my ass glancing off of his crotch, thrilled to find him hard. In response, he turned me around to face him. The dim illumination was enough that I could see the debauchery in his eyes as his lips lifted in an arrogant smirk.

There was the Roy Mustang I knew.

I returned the favor in kind, grasping at the lapels of his jacket, pulling him downward. He lowered his head and I closed the distance, our lips brushing against each other. It started slow, sweet even but that didn't last. The coy bursts of kisses quickly morphed into something licentious, his lips making the first move toward domination. We devoured each other, fighting for supremacy, our hands a flurry of action. By the time we parted, clothing had been torn and flung away and his mouth had drifted downward, licking and biting at my stiff nipples. I clutched his silky strands in my hands as he continued his trek, his fingers leading the way and denying me of my last article of clothing.

His kisses were aggressive as he parted my legs and dipped inward, his probing tongue robbing me of my voice. He lowered his body underneath my legs and then stood even as he feasted like a king. He partook greedily, his big hands reaching upward to palm my breasts. He massaged and taunted in tandem, driving me to the precipice of euphoric bliss. I cried out with abandon, pulling at his hair as he continued, his talented tongue wringing every last drop of pleasure from my body. I exploded soon after, shuddering as he lapped up the essence he'd claimed.

Weakened but still found wanting, I managed to open my eyes, catching the depraved glint, his arrogant smirk curving into something sinfully sinister. He picked me up in his arms and then lowered me onto him, impaling me swiftly and surely.

"Make it good, Roy," I demanded, my breaths coming forcibly.

"There was never a question."

His soft chuckle as he plunged into me was the last coherent thing I heard, the night fading away on blissful screams and declarations.


	3. Chapter Two

**Warning: Insane amounts of foul language, sexual activity, and violence.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist…I'm just playing with them for a while.**

 **Hand to the Fire**

 **Chapter Two**

 _The frantic pace has slowed and now, it was a mission of discovery, his fingertips ghosting across my sweat slicked skin. The air between us was alive, the kinetic energy acting as a tether. He could no more leave the cradle of my thighs than I could release him of my hold and I silently dared him to try. My arms were draped decorously over his shoulders as he flexed his muscular body against mine, effectively pinning me in place (as if I wanted to leave.) With each pass, I felt the flames of desire licking at my bones, his touch inciting a riotous eruption of ecstasy. He was the flint to my stone, each bracing strike threatening to spark the smoldering kindling anew._

 _If he stopped now, he was a dead man. He wasn't risking anything though, his tempered grunts filled my ear as his hands traveled upward to grasp my arms and shove them above my head. As much as I love the moment of respite, I was ready for him again, the scorching flames fighting to surface. I bit my lip even as a lascivious groan escaped and I felt the flutter of his kisses against my neck. I turned my head away from him, granting him full access to plunder to his heart's content._

 _My heart swelled as his hips lunged, his hardened sex slipping against mine. I wanted him to claim me, to take me to the precipice of absolute pleasure again but he teased me instead, his seductive chuckle instigating an insurgence of sensation. His grip tightened around my wrists and I gasped, my body arching against his. The energy grew between us and I extended a lewd invitation by opening my legs wider to welcome what I hope would be a thorough fuck. He'd put me through the paces as the night bled into early morning, blazing a trail from the door to the bed, every inch of our flesh consumed by the hypnotic rhythm of lust that drummed through us. We had exhausted every known position, the cacophony of our skin meeting and our cries of pleasure echoed into the night. He didn't give a shit if our primal screeches disturbed the quiet, his punishing pace and demanding demeanor wouldn't release me until he'd devoured the last of my essence._

 _As we lingered in the afterglow, he'd taken to worshipping the expanse of my body, pausing here and there to caress, to buffer the searing heat that threatened to engulf me. He halted his exploration, his lips hovering just above my neck, his warm breath breaking across my skin. His labored breathing was loud in my ear, his heart pulsating frantically between us. He lifted his eyes to mine, the momentary lull laden with anticipation. There was a wealth of emotions shining in his invigorating gaze, his lips curved slightly into his usual diabolical grin that segued into a more mischievous glint. There were layers to him that I'd just begun to peel back, yet I could feel him pulling away even as he remained ensconced within my grasp._

" _There's so much I want to say to you, Edaline," he whispered as he dipped his head once more. He'd released my arms and I brought them to rest on his shoulders. My fingers carded through his sweaty hair as the silence grew heavy between us. He pressed reverent kisses against my chest as he slipped his arms between the bed and my back, pulling me upward into his embrace. I felt his erection as I settled in his lap, his strong arms encircling the expanse of my body. This close, I could practically hear his heart as it beat a wild rhythm against his chest and his breathless kisses left a tingling path in its wake. I waited for him to continue but he seemed lost in his ministrations. The open ended comment was worrisome but he chased it away as only he could. Lifting me slightly he lowered me onto him tortuously slow, the act robbing me of my breath. For a brief moment, he stilled and exhaled softly. It was a weary sigh, filled with trepidation but I couldn't focus, especially as he began to move._

" _I'm out of time, Ed," he lamented softly. He thrust deeper and a pleasurable cry escaped my lips as a tear broke away and trailed down my cheek. "I'm out of time, Ed…"_

"I'm out of time, Ed…"

His words whispered on the crest of absolute pleasure echoed in my thoughts as the darkness began to lift. The remnants of tears surprised me but I quickly disregarded them in light of what was about to happen. Between Roy fucking me against the wall and our ferocious activities in the bed, we'd polished off the last bit of the whiskey together- and I felt every inch of it coming back to haunt me. I flopped on my back- which was a disaster waiting to happen- and gasped as the first salvo of what would become a massive hangover was fired. My stomach flipped viciously and I gagged, the rancid bile burning its way up my throat.

"Stay down," I muttered, pushing the errant strands of my hair away from my face. Even though my eyes were closed I could feel the world spinning, adding to the _fuck you_ greeting that my body gave. Adding to this cavalcade of shit, the fucking headache jackhammered to life and pounded the ever living hell out of my skull. For the first time- and probably not the last- I promised that if I lived through this, I would never put another bottle of alcohol to my lips.

I didn't want to move- fuck, moving, I didn't even want to breathe. I cradled my head as ghostly images crossed my mind, the phantom aches and pains coursing across my body a heady reminder of what had occurred. We were insatiable as we devoured each other, the carnal lust that had been building under the guise of the insolent subordinate and haughty superior breaking the surface. Even as my headache pounded, I couldn't help but grin as one sordid image segued into another, one particular position causing my womb to throb, craven for his invasion once again.

The man had skills and he used every one of them to master my body in the most delectable of ways. Reliving those countless hours under his touch would burn and even now, I wanted his heat to consume me. Unsurprisingly, the bed was cold and I didn't have to turn to know that he'd long vacated the spot next to me. It was for the better though; as far as he was concerned, this was his last chance to score before I moved on and for me… for me it had been the answer to a question that had haunted me for years.

 _I never do anything without purpose, Edaline…_

A succession of heavy thuds shattered my thoughts and I jumped, my stomach lurching. It took me a moment to recognize that someone was pounding on my door, the booming sounds resonating through the stilted silence.

"Open up, Fullmetal!" came the muffled demand. Grimacing, I exhaled , the acrid odor of liquor assaulting my senses. I sat up quickly, unsure of my chances of making it to the bathroom on time. Visions of a cup of steaming coffee intermingled with the notion of murder as the pounding continued, another muffled voice entering the fray.

"Ed, it's important."

Hawkeye's voice was unmistakable; the soft tone belied the strength the woman exuded, yet her word was absolute. She was Mustang's right hand for a reason. That didn't temper my concern however; as strong as her resolve was, her tone held a hint of disquiet as if it were an omen of things to come.

The maelstrom that was my hangover subsided slightly as I turned to get out of bed. I glanced at my night stand to see a bottle of aspirin and a glass of water. Next to the bed, a wastebasket waited, lined with disposable linens.

My heart slammed against my chest – the bastard had enough forethought to prepare for the worst. I bit my lip as I considered this, the conflicting emotions threatening to spill over. I was furious that all of the passion he'd extracted was spent on what amounted to a mere one night stand, yet endeared to his desire to take care of me. The duplicity was maddening but it left me oddly optimistic that all wasn't as it seemed.

The bile crept up, my mouth watering as a warning. If I didn't get some relief, the contents of my stomach would make a return visit and fuck if I wanted to spend my morning cleaning that shit up. Maybe when I resembled a human once more, I'd stop by the office for a visit and pick his brain.

 _You just resigned, Ed. No need to rub salt in a wound._

Another solid knock and Havoc's voice followed, "It's about the Colonel, Chief."

Havoc's tone wasn't right. It was hollow as if the young man had lost the one thing that mattered to him. I glanced over the room and I noticed that there wasn't a scrap of Roy's clothing left anywhere. Vaguely, I remembered the thrill of ripping his shirt off and hearing the tiny pings of the buttons as they flew. His shirt, trousers, underwear were left on the floor like breadcrumbs, leading the way to our den of absolute pleasure. Now in the light of a new day, there wasn't a hint of him anywhere- even his intoxicating scent had dissipated, leaving me to wonder if I'd dreamt it all.

There was no way in hell I dreamt any of _that_. The delicious pull of my muscles and the tender warmth of my sex disabused me of that notion. I'm sure if I took a look in the mirror, I'd find more evidence of our heated tryst that Roy's absence couldn't snatch away. I couldn't dwell on this for long though; obviously something was up if both Riza and Havoc were at my door so early in the morning.

"I'm coming." I finally answered as I pushed away from the bed. Standing was a precarious and instead of risking life and limb, I waited for the room to stop spinning before I stepped forward. I debated navigating without my eyes but thought better of it; my balance was already compromised, I didn't need to add blindness to the equation. Despite that, opening my eyes only furthered my intended eternal sobriety.

Once my eyes focused, I noticed my black tank and a pair of trousers in the corner. Considering that my head was about to explode, I moved as quick as could, snatching the clothes and hastily put them on as I shuffled and bounced toward the door. I briefly wondered why the hell the sun illuminated just about every shadowed corner of the flat. What time was it anyway?

Slipping my hands in my pockets, I fished around for my watch only to be disappointed to find them both empty. I'd worn these trousers the day before and I was sure that it was there when I walked into the bar. That was a moot point, however; judging by the strength of my hangover , I was surprised that I'd made it home in one piece. Perhaps it had been cast off during Roy's feverish attempts to strip me naked. I'd look for it later.

When I finally got to the door, I paused before opening the door, turning around to glance over the flat once more. Scraps of clothing lay haphazardly on the couch, absently discarded days ago. The few dishes I owned were piled in the sink and stacks of books littered every available surface. So I wasn't the tidiest girl around but then I was at Mustang's beck and call. His expectations for his prodigious state alchemist far exceeded what was necessary and I willingly followed the path that he'd so intricately carved out for me.

"Which is why I resigned." Without preamble, I swung the door open to reveal Havoc and Riza, their startled expressions freezing on their faces. I snickered slightly and shook my head as I stood away to allow them passage, "Sorry it took so long for me to answer. I had an...interesting night."

I watched as the two soldiers entered, their bewildered gaze studying me intently. I felt exposed, as if they inherently knew what had occurred between me and our commanding officer just mere hours ago. Attempting to clear the air, I left them at the door, stumbling toward the kitchen, "Y-you guys want coffee? Eggs?"

"Uh, Ed." The hesitation in Havoc's voice was alarming and I stopped and turn to regard him with a questionable expression. He exhaled heavily and scratched his head, his eyes shifting toward Riza before focusing on me again. A nervous laugh escaped his lips as he continued, "Um, it's nearly two o'clock in the afternoon, Fullmetal."

Two o'clock? What the...How could it be two o'clock already?

"Are you okay, Edaline?" Riza stepped toward me and on reflex, I shrunk back. Even if Roy wasn't here, I was afraid Riza's sharp eye would catch something. Her brow wrinkled in confusion but she allowed me the space. After a beat, she continued, "We tried calling you this morning, Ed. You didn't answer."

"Um, yeah," I stammered, "I- um, I spent the night celebrating my impending freedom." I watched as Havoc and Riza traded confused glances again. They had no idea what I was talking about. So, I enlightened them."It's simple, really. I resigned."

"You what?!" Their response was comical and I would've laughed if their expressions weren't filled with tension.

I narrowed my brow, "I have tendered my resignation effective immediately. As of yesterday, I'm no longer a part of the Amestris Military. I'll turn in my pocket watch as soon as I find it."

They both stared at me, the confusion thickening. Surely, Roy wasn't as stupid as I thought he was. I couldn't have made it any clearer- I was done with the military. A brief image of his lustful expression as he plunged into me from behind rose and I cleared my throat roughly. Apparently, we hadn't been done with each other.

Crossing my arms about my chest, I questioned, "Mustang didn't tell you yet?"More blank stares. I exhaled angrily, "That fucking idiot- he watched me leave it on his desk! If he's playing at some game-"

 _I never do anything without purpose, Edaline…_

"Ed..."

 _There's so much I want to say to you, Ed..._

I ignored Havoc's imploring voice as I started pacing, my thoughts running rampant. Something was wrong here. Though he'd practically ignored the resignation, I was sure that he'd sign it, even reluctantly. Last night's activities seemed to confirm that he'd put the past behind him and was ready to let me go. The regret in his voice came across as tenderness, wistful even. Now, it was blaringly obvious what he was doing.

 _I'm out of time, Ed..._

"Edaline..."

I stopped and turned , startled to see Riza so close. Her usual stoic eyes were alive with emotion, welling with tears. I glanced to Havoc to see him quickly avert his eyes, the act filling me with dread. My heartbeat accelerated and thumped viciously against my chest, anxiously waiting for someone to speak.

"Colonel Mustang didn't report to work today. After calling and getting no answer, Havoc and I went to his apartment." Riza's voice was steady as she continued, "When we were able to gain access, we found his quarters in top condition. There was nothing out of place with the exception of..."

"With the exception of what?"

"His ignition gloves and his pocket watch. They were left on his table."

"His gloves?" I whispered absently as my eyes drifted downward. The connotation of his actions last night and this morning eluded to only one thing...

"As of 1300 hours, Colonel Mustang's status has been designated as AWOL." At Riza's stern pronouncement, my blood ran cold. She continued stonily, "Major Edaline Elric, you have been tasked to bring Colonel Mustang in to stand for charges levied by the state."

"Charges?" I asked the question but I already knew the answer.

Riza didn't hesitate, her voice devoid of any emotion, "Colonel Roy Mustang will stand accused of desertion- a crime punishable by..." She paused briefly, the cold facade crumbling slightly, "A crime punishable by death."

 _I never do anything without purpose, Edaline…_

I sure as hell hoped that he knew what he was doing because when I found him- and I would find him-he'd have to answer to more than just the brass. Clenching my fist tightly, I turned away from them, my thoughts already focusing on my next step. Fuck the hangover, fuck the resignation.

"Where do I start?"

 **A/N: So yeah, Roy's AWOL- or is he? Stay tuned. And as a reminder, this story will be every bit of the M rating.**

 **Please R &R if you have a chance.**

 **-Speed**


	4. Chapter Three

**Warning: Language/ violence/ sexual situations**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist or any characters therein. Seriously, if I did…**

 **Hand to the Fire**

 **Chapter Three**

I dreaded this trip.

Even though hell bent on getting answers, a sudden feeling of encroaching darkness settled within my soul. Although told that his flat was left in pristine condition, I didn't want to cross the threshold, didn't want to see what abandonment looked like. I'd already felt used and discarded at the news of Roy's disappearance and the anger worked as a catalyst to push past the lingering effects of the hangover, yet there was a sort of despondence that hovered as we made our way to his place. Thankfully, no one had said a word the entire ride, the connotation of the silence saying enough. Mustang had slipped away in the middle of the night without a word, running from what was anyone's guess at this point.

The confusion and disbelief in their expressions were painful and I could relate. A sense of loss pervaded among us, the air brimming with anticipation. Uncharacteristically silent, the team had stared out into the late afternoon sun, lost in their own musings as to why their superior had decided to leave them out of the loop. Mustang, although prone to his bouts of secrecy, hadn't hesitated in sharing his thoughts with the team he'd handpicked, especially when it concerned matters of the state. Often, he'd whisper conspiratorially behind closed doors, his piercing gaze tantamount to a threat on one's life if an errant word was uttered. He believed in trust, loyalty, and allegiance and expected it from everyone under his command. Those tenets now laid shattered at his duplicity and I couldn't blame any of them for the wall of distrust they'd erected. Fury had scorched a path as the somber silence continued, the heaviness of what lay beyond settled about my weary shoulders as we neared our destination. Why hadn't he said anything? What was so important that he couldn't confide in his most trusted comrades?

 _I didn't think that you'd sink to cowardice._

The words tightened like a vice around my neck, the soft shuffles of our boots filling the empty space. I walked the corridor with them, painfully aware of my own hypocrisy. Not a day ago, I was willing to walk away from them without explanation; their only saving grace had been Mustang's dawdling. If not for that, I'd committed the same crime, deferring my decision to happenstance.

I suddenly felt like the world's biggest asshole.

"Since nobody's going to ask, I will." Havoc's remark shattered the self-depreciating thoughts and I cast my gaze downward, watching as my boots pressed forward, one in front of the other. I could feel the seismic shift in demeanor as the pensive silence gave way to absolute furor.

"Anyone know what our fearless leader was into?"

I waited for answers but none were forthcoming and I chanced a glance up at Riza who'd led us down the corridor, her steady gait never faltering. If anyone would know, she would; Roy had trusted her most. Yet, I could sense that there was edge of dejection in her silence.

"He had been curiously silent the past few weeks," Breda chimed in from my right. The usual merriment in his voice was conspicuously absent as he continued, "He hadn't been the same since everything went down."

"That's understandable though," Fuery added, "between the events of the Promised Day and dealing with his own sins, I could understand why he'd been less than forthcoming." The bespectacled man regarded the tall blond with a sincere expression, "It's easy to assume that this perceived slight was consciously deceitful…"

"Perceived slight?" Falman entered the fray, his voice stilted, "Perceived or intentional, Colonel Mustang made a hasty decision, one he knew would cost him his life. Mustang doesn't make hasty decisions, he's methodical, cunning. He never left anything to chance- why would he now?"

 _I'm out of time, Ed…_

"So you're saying that he could have been forced to run?" I could feel all of their gazes on me, the implication of foul play stalling the conversation. Riza had fully stopped and glanced back at me, the dejection swiftly seguing into consternation. She, more than anyone of us, knew of Mustang's fortitude. Nothing would sway the man from his purpose.

"Unfortunately, we do not have the luxury of supposition," she responded stiffly, "we rely on tangible evidence. Whatever he may or may not have incurred isn't enough to belay our orders. We are to find him and bring him back."

"Even though the brass is hell bent on condemning him?" Breda asked. "If you ask me, something's rotten in that cotton."

The eerie silence returned and Riza turned away and started again, her stride wider as if she were attempting to evade the reality of her truth. His treachery cut deep, the deception all consuming.

 _Do you trust me, Edaline?_

If I had to answer that question now, I couldn't be sure of my answer.

After all, betrayal was a bitter pill to swallow, none more so than from the one you trusted most of all.

* * *

After four hours, I'd been left alone in his apartment. Most of the team had left within two hours of searching his quarters, unsatisfied and unconvinced that this was the work of some nefarious conspiracy. Everything he owned was in its place; his suits and uniforms had been hung with care in his closet, his bed neatly made. The rest of the house was spotless, the cleanliness eerily haunting. It was as if his essence had simply dissipated leaving the home hermetically sealed and undisturbed. To say that it was frustrating was a slight; for all we knew, Roy could've met his end and his desertion a sad footnote to his legacy.

I didn't want to believe that, though.

Memories had surfaced as the others had worked in strained tones lending to a sort of definiteness. Pawing through his belongings in hushed reverence ran congruent with the somber atmosphere. It was as if Roy had died and we were all gathering to construct his eulogy. Coupled with the thick silence, the home felt akin to a tomb and the investigators pall bearers escorting the dead to their final resting place. I refused to consign myself to the belief that Roy had done this intentionally but the evidence- or lack thereof- was ill refutable. Now we all faced the daunting task of bringing him back, under the guise of a spineless coward when we knew he was nothing of the sort.

Frustration wasn't the half of it.

"Where are you, Roy?" I asked aloud. The home was empty now, with the last of the investigators having left just a half hour ago. Among his trappings, I felt a sort of despondency that had eluded me since Riza and Havoc had pounded on my door hours before. I was so focused on the anger of his transgression that I hadn't had the time to process what his absence had done to me. We'd spent a passionate night together, tethering our souls into one and yet I'd been left barren. I was desperate to figure out the inconspicuous clues he'd left through his touch and in his words. I wanted answers.

None were forthcoming.

Yet, I still couldn't bring myself to leave.

A lone guard stood sentinel at his door as I leisurely perused the book case in the study, my fingers walking across the stiff spines, the lighting casting shadows in corners and against the walls. I was tempted to call _olly olly oxen free_ just to see if he'd jump out with a sullen expression at being caught. Instead, I continued my silent inspection of the study, hoping that I'd find something that the peering eyes of the investigators had missed.

"You're thinking that Roy may have left something for you to puzzle over."

I spun on my heels quickly to see Brigadier General Maes Hughes leaning against the doorjamb, his arms crossed about his chest, a small smirk riding his lips. His wide grin and piercing green eyes were impish, bemused even as he pushed himself away from the door and approached. His tendency for flippancy and frivolity belied the stringent intelligence and intense curiosity that lain just beneath the surface. This could explain how he'd passed Roy up so quickly.

"You'd be right, you know." He stopped a few inches in front of me, his eyes focusing on the books and then back to me. He grinned a little more and shook his head, "You couldn't be more obvious, Ed."

"Fuck you, Hughes." Although he'd outranked me, there was no fear of reprisals on his part. He took my brash temperament and volatile ways in stride. Scowling, I continued, "Isn't your presence here considered a conflict of interest?"

"The investigators are gone and I dismissed the guard," he responded craftily. There was a hint of mischievousness in his tone and I couldn't help but wonder if he knew something. The rank on his shoulders gleamed as he leaned in closer, the ribbons and cords that decorated his uniform a testament to his devotion to his beliefs. He smiled wider and whispered conspiratorially, "Good try on evading though, Fullmetal."

"What the fuck are you talking about, Hughes?" I was beyond irritated and his goofy grin was pushing me further toward the edge of rational thought.

Hughes just shook his head," How no one asked about that gigantic hickey is beyond me. I'll wager it had something to do with your drunken activities last night."

My eyes widened, horrified that I'd been found out. How did he…how could he have known?

 _I never do anything without a purpose, Ed._

Roy, that bastard…

"What did he tell you?" I asked incredulously as I tugged on the collar of my jacket seeking to conceal the evidence of our heated tryst. Heat crawled up my neck and flushed my cheeks as I closed my eyes tightly. His effervescent laugh echoed in the silence as I struggled to maintain composure. Never had I wanted to beat someone's ass as badly as I did now.

Hughes strolled away, his gait almost lackadaisical, his expression whimsical as if he were the only one in on the joke. A soft chuckle left his lips as he plucked a book out and opened it, his eyes roaming over the page before snapping it shut. When he looked up at me, his piercing eyes had lost their mirth, his lips thinning. Talk about telegraphing; his entire demeanor spoke to his complicity.

"You know something, don't you, Hughes?"

"That depends," he answered cryptically. A beat of silence passed between us, thinning my frayed nerves. How much did Hughes know- what did he know? And why was he the lucky one?

"Care to elaborate, or am I supposed to guess?" Hughes was on the move again, this time heading toward Mustang's desk. His fingers glanced over the items, his contemplative gaze focused. He'd lost all mischievousness by now, his demeanor more aloof than anything else. It wasn't something I was used to seeing on him. "Hughes…"

"There aren't many people that he trusts, Ed," Hughes began. He rounded the desk and sat down, placing his laced fingers atop the gleaming wood. His gaze was disjointed, unnerving in a way I couldn't explain as he continued to speak, "Did you know he'd lost his parents when he was younger? His aunt took him in and raised him up, taught him lessons that he never forgot." He paused, a thoughtful but brief smile surfacing, "Roy's trust…it's a complicated thing."

"And he trusts me?"

"Obviously," Hughes answered almost dejectedly. He frowned and shook his head, "If he didn't trust you, he would've never involved you."

"And by involved you mean fuck me."

"In a manner of speaking, yes, he crossed that line as a test." Before I could rebuke him, he held his hand up, "You have to understand something, Edaline. Even before he'd admitted to his attraction to you, he'd been drawn to you like a moth to the flame. He held your tenacity, your fortitude in high regard."

"But what about Hawkeye, or Havoc?"

"They're the closest thing that he has to a family. He didn't want to risk their careers- or their lives."

"He's perfectly fine with risking mine though?" Seething, I grit my teeth, "That bastard has some nerve…"

"That bastard, as you so eloquently put it, knows that you can hold your own. When you handed in your resignation, it was a confirmation of sorts. He could make his move knowing that your freedom was his answer."

"So I was merely a means to an end for him then?"

"You're looking at this from the wrong perspective, Ed. He's not using you, he's asking for your help."

"Why couldn't he just come out and ask then, why all this deceptive bullshit?"

 _Why did he make love to me and then leave me without explanation?_

Of course, I wasn't going to lend a voice to that certain query. When I found Roy, I'd ask him myself.

Instead, I asked,"Why couldn't he just explain himself?"

"Because time is of the essence and you, more than anyone knows that Roy doesn't do anything without a purpose."

Startled by his words on Hughes' lips, I grimaced. All this talk of purpose but I had yet to see any evidence of such- just a bunch of lip service without explanation. This smacked of a sort of desperation that I wouldn't have expected from Mustang.

"It would've been nice if he'd let me in on that purpose," I replied acidly.

"I won't argue with that. Just know that he didn't have the luxury of time to explain his intentions."

His distant tone worried me; had Roy gotten into something he couldn't get out of? Eager for answers, I approached the desk and slammed my hands down on the desk, garnering his attention. The shadows had fallen just right, concealing just half of his face. The lone eye exposed was empty, devoid of any emotion as it stared at me.

It was fucking creepy.

He held up a slip of paper, "I'm submitting this in the morning." Quickly, I snapped it up and read it, my eyes widening. "It's your resignation. Effective tomorrow at 0800 hours, you'll no longer be a dog of the military."

"How'd you get that?" I questioned softly. A fog of panic descended as a chill ran up my spine. Gone was the levity, in its place a muted urgency. He hadn't submitted the resignation but instead gave it to Hughes? What was his purpose for that?

"It was done to help you to move about freely." He answered the unspoken question with such intimidating ease that chilled my blood. I wasn't used to this stony façade. I swallowed hard as Hughes leaned forward, his expression frozen, "He knows what he's up against with the state, Ed. He knows they're going to kill him- and it's not because he's gone AWOL."

So it had something to do with the military. Figures.

" Why can't you help him?" I was growing tired of this exercise in shadows and games. Exasperated, I leaned closer, getting in his face. All of the animosity, the trepidation, the fear had built up to this point and it all threatened to bubble over. We stared at each other, waiting to see who would flinch first. Surprisingly, Hughes held his own, his bespectacled eyes gleaming with determination. It was within his gaze that I'd found my answer. Hughes was in a sticky situation himself; as a part of the upper echelon, he was expected to tow the party line, even if it meant he'd have to kill his best friend. I didn't envy him in this moment.

His gaze remained steady as he answered, "My hands are tied tightly. This is all I can do."

With that, he stood swiftly. The moment was over. I was on my own.

As Hughes made his way to the door, he paused and looked back, the familiar soft smile emerging, "He trusts you to figure this out, Edaline. If he didn't, he wouldn't have led you here." He tossed something to me and I caught it easily, glancing down to see a set of keys. Bewildered, I watched as he walked away, tossing up his hand, "I've brought you some time, Fullmetal. Don't dawdle."

And with that, he was gone.

I regarded the study with a discerning eye. Roy was a crafty son of a bitch; if something was hidden in here, it was going to be damn near impossible to find.

Luckily, I loved a challenge.

 **A/N: So a bit of intrigue for you. It's about to get real tricky for Ed, real quick.**

 **Responses:**

 **Ayame99: It is thrilling to see what Roy's up to, isn't it? With his track record and ambition, there's no telling. It's a bit of a conundrum though. As for the sexy parts, there's more to come- after I get all the violence out of the way :).**

 **Thanks to those who favored, followed and reviewed! It's the manna I need to keep going!** **Please review if you are so inclined!**


	5. Chapter Four

**Warning: Foul language**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist or the characters therein...just playing with them for a while.**

 **Chapter Four**

I'd found nothing.

Three lonely nights of searching, of listening to the ambient sounds of his living quarters as I stared out into nothingness had yielded nothing more than bouts of annoyance. I'd looked everywhere- through every book, every drawer, even searched his floor for any loose boards all for naught. Frustration had become my new best friend, the curses that lingered on my lips our new hobby. For him to have trusted me so much, he'd made it fucking difficult to find this...this whatever it was I had to find.

Still, I couldn't leave it alone. He'd entrusted me to find this elusive clue, trusted me above anyone else- even his ever loyal adjutant- to follow his trail. Yet I'd been sidelined by his cleverness, a notion that made me even more irritable. How could a thunderhead like Roy Mustang get one over on me, the prodigy who'd made history to become a State Alchemist at the tender age of eleven? I was a master at cracking codes, solving the most intricate of formulas and had seen the other side of the gate more times than I cared to count...

Only to be undone by Roy's propensity for comeuppance. Childish in my own right, I'd spent most of the night musing that he'd done this intentionally and he was somewhere in some rat infested alleyway having a hearty laugh at my expense.

He could be a finicky bastard.

 _You're not trying hard enough, Fullmetal…_

"Fuck you, Colonel Bastard," I growled. Seriously, I didn't need his phantom voice chastising me at the moment.

I paced the floor, my mind flowing with ideas as to what he had left me to find. It wasn't long before I plopped behind his desk, my eyes focused on nothing but the near perfection of the immaculate space, wondering why he couldn't have just told me what the fuck was going on. Really, a little transparency would've gone a long way.

I reclined in his executive chair, propping my feet up on his gleaming Cherrywood desk as I tilted my head up at the ceiling. The silence had settled and the only sound in the room was my even breaths and the incessant ticking of the clock above my head. Wearily, I contemplated leaving; I was still pissed at his fuck and flee and I had no clue as to what I was to find, just that it was in this room…somewhere.

"Him and his goddamn games," I murmured as I placed my hands behind my head. I closed my eyes and let the rhythmic ticking lull my vitriolic thoughts, the images of the many ways I could dispatch Roy seguing into the countless times our eyes met. Although innocuous, each time, a layer of Roy Mustang had been exposed.

There was the impetuous glare, the one that usually got us into a lot of trouble.

Then there was the pompous glower, the one that usually made me want to kick his ass a million ways to Sunday.

Then there was his licentious, smoldering smirk, the one that made me ache to be the one he conquered.

I claim temporary insanity against that one- his darkened, blissfully debauched eyes were irritatingly annoying and the degree of challenge was almost sickening.

But then…then there was the vulnerable, almost sightless gaze, the one that urged me to maim, kill, and destroy everything that would cause him harm. The one that had seared its urgency on my soul minutes before he'd pinned me against my own door and took me to a place that I'd give my heart and soul to return.

It was the one image that I couldn't shake.

 _I'm out of time, Ed…_

My heart ached, his raw, impassioned plea reverberating against my soul. Before that moment, I'd never felt so impotent, so worthless. His words had fallen on deaf ears, his actions lost in a flurry of emotion. He had trusted me with his life and I'd been oblivious, willing to allow the pleasure cloud my judgement. Ignorance was most certainly not blissful and the anger that had been churning had slowed at the realization that I wasn't as sharp as I thought I was. Realization was excruciatingly sobering.

A lone tear escaped and I wiped it quickly. I was wasting time here.

Time…

 _I'm out of time, Ed…_

 _Because time is of the essence and you, more than anyone, knows that Roy doesn't do anything without a purpose…_

… _Just know that he didn't have the luxury of time to explain his intentions…_

I opened my eyes quickly, my heart hammering against my chest as I focused on the massive clock that was mounted on the wall above my head. The insistent ticking seemed to grow louder. I could practically hear Roy's honeyed words of encouragement in my ear:

" _You're getting warmer, Edaline."_

"Son of a bitch," I whispered as I sprung to my feet. Swiftly, I pushed the chair backwards to brace it against the wall and climbed, mumbling all manner of curses. How long had I searched this very room, sat at this desk, stared at that fucking clock?

I reached for it, the tips of my fingers barely brushing its wooden face. Again, the ticking seemed to grow in my ear as if taunting me for my short stature. Growing angry, I gritted my teeth and extended my reach as I stood on the tips of my boots, grunting with exertion. I still couldn't reach the damn thing and my patience was running thin.

"There's more than one way to skin a cat." Briefly, Alphonse came to mind. He'd surely give me a piece of his mind for even thinking such thoughts.

A small chuff escaped my lips as I jumped down and pulled the chair away from the wall. I looked up at the paneling and the gigantic clock, its fine wood finish gleaming in the soft glow of the study's lights. It would only take a bit of alchemy…

I clapped and thrust my hands against the wall, enjoying the pulsating energy that throbbed throughout every nerve of my body as the paneling crinkled and bulged. My eyes traveled up the wall, watching as it cracked all the way up to the ceiling. As soon as I got the clock down, I'd fix it and he would never know that I'd practically torn his house down. The thought made me smile, my lips already spreading thinly over my teeth.

Big bad wolf, eat your heart out.

The clock hung precariously on the nail, the sounds of the wall groaning against my alchemic power finally drowning out the annoying tick. The wall exploded with a deafening boom and the clock was propelled forward, crashing against the book case, its glass covering shattering on impact.

I huffed as I glanced back at the massive clock, nearly crowing at my triumph. I didn't linger; I quickly patched the wall up and then went to the clock, picking it up and tossing it over on its destroyed face. I pulled off my gloves and searched for any hints of tampering, my fingers traveling up and down its smooth back. In the shadowed corners of my mind both Hughes and Roy's remarks echoed and for the umpteenth time, I'd chastised myself. I'd been remiss about their hints, haughtily holding on to my scathing anger, filled to the brim with retribution and awaiting the pleasure of meting out its due punishment.

None of that mattered at the moment for my fingers had found the opening. The smoothness was disturbed, the fine grooves evidence of alchemic altering. I clapped once more and the back peeled away, revealing a folded piece of paper. I plucked it out of the clock and sat back on my haunches, a gleeful smile erupting. The clever bastard had left a clue- and I had found it. Three days later but, whatever. I was a step closer to finding Roy.

Curious, I unfolded the paper and studied it. It was a general map of Amestris embossed with a red x near the eastern border. The best I could see, it was closer to Youswell than Lior in which case, Roy was in luck. I'd made plenty of allies along the way and I knew the region like the back of my hand. Nostalgic reminders of a life I'd long passed filled my thoughts and suddenly, I longed to hear my brother's voice. But that would have to wait-this was the only link to Roy I had at the moment, I wasn't going to squander my good fortune.

A forceful pounding interrupted my quasi celebration and I placed the clock against the book shelf and stood. I turned to survey his study. It was just as undisturbed as it had been the morning he'd left it- save for the shards of glass that littered the floor next to the massacred clock. It was a mere pittance for what Roy had put me through so far and I didn't give a crap about what I'd done. Still the same, I'd replace it. The pounding continued, its urgency casting a shroud of familiarity. Again, I was transported to three days ago, to the moment I'd found out that Roy was missing.

"We know you're in there, Edaline! Open up!" Riza's commanding voice was stern, apathetic even. I'd known that they'd found out about my resignation and I tried to avoid contact with them. I wasn't a purveyor of duplicity like Mustang; I couldn't lie if my life depended on it and as such, I thought it prudent not to face them until I had a firm grasp of what was going on. Besides, Hughes was pretty explicit about involving them.

I carefully folded the flimsy map and slipped it in my pocket as I started for the door. The booming knocks were coming at a rapid pace as a warning. I didn't want to get tangled up with them or their prying questions. I had a mission that I was keen on completing.

Once I got to the door, I closed my eyes and exhaled. Centering my thoughts, I smiled, "Alright, Roy, let's see how much I've learned from your exemplary leadership."

Of course, that meant I was about to bullshit my way out of here.

I opened the door with a grand swing, a bright grin affixed, "Hawkeye, Havoc, fancy meeting you here."

"Edaline," Riza countered quietly, "we've been trying to contact you."

"You have? Oh, I must've missed those calls." I laughed and reached to scratch the back of my head, "I've been pretty busy as of late, taking care of loose ends and all."

"You're leaving?"

"Yeah, I don't see a reason to stick around. I'm done." The silence was thick with tension, the lie burning as it left my lips. More than anything, I wanted to let them know what I'd found, that Roy was leaving clues but I remembered Hughes' words and relented. Instead, I shrugged my shoulders, "Mustang's not here to nag so I there's nothing tying me here anymore."

"Is that right? Explain your presence then." Riza eyed me suspiciously before leaning in, her observant eyes roaming the expansive space. I steeled my nerves against her inquisitive gaze, holding my breath as she stepped forward. It wouldn't take much to pique her interests and once she'd seen the clock, I was as good as done. I swallowed hard and glanced at Havoc, suddenly taken aback by his sullen expression. His eyes burned with hurt as he stared at me as if to question why. I gently shook my head and looked away, my chest constricting. It was because of the resignation and its shitty timing.

"Mustang never could finish an assignment," I mumbled as I started to move forward, a deep cold emanating from the pit of my stomach. Deception wasn't my thing, neither was running and I was doing both. I paused briefly, glancing back at the two of them, their eyes hollow and despondent. They'd been abandoned; their trust squandered by the two people they'd spilled and shed blood for, the two people that they believed could lead the country out of the shadows of the military machine left by Bradley. Unspoken words hung between us, their silent judgement condemning me anew.

Fuck, this was hard.

But it was necessary.

I didn't say anything as I walked away, the desolate echo of my boots in the corridor a shameful insinuation of guilt. That familiar pang of loneliness that had emerged when Alphonse left made another appearance and I hunched over, attempting to shield myself. I didn't want them to see the tears as they welled in my eyes or as they dropped silently, marking my escape from their hopeless gaze.

I'd never felt lonelier than I did in that moment but I couldn't stop. The answers awaited me in the east and I had no choice but to follow the trail left for me.

 **Reviews:**

 **Ayame99: Thank you for reading and reviewing! I can't help but smile when the words that I craft ignite the imagination. As for the story itself, there's more intrigue, more adventure, a couple of twists and turns ,more Edaline and her potty mouth and of course we have to see if she catches up to Mustang… Thanks again for reading and reviewing!**

 **A/N: Thank you to all the readers who have favored and followed thus far. It's a bit slow going – work and other obligations, yadda, yadda, yadda…Hang in there though, we'll get to the thick of it soon enough.**

 **Please feel free to leave a review if you have the chance!**

 **Until next time!**


	6. Chapter Five

**Warning: Language/violence/ sexual situations**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist or any characters therein.**

 **Chapter Five**

I'd almost forgotten how uncomfortable the train could be.

Almost.

It hadn't been that long since I'd last ridden the rails yet the annoying rhythmic jerk of the car and its ridiculously uncomfortable seats had reawakened the sense of urgency that I'd thought I'd lost some time ago. After Alphonse had made a complete recovery and decided to walk his own path, I'd left Resembool soon afterwards, heading West in search for more knowledge. The first trip out was sort of surreal. It was the first time that I'd boarded the train without direction. Our goal had been achieved, the country saved from the clutches of the nefarious and the dynamics had shifted toward progression. Without a succinct purpose, the trip had seemed more of a listless roaming than an adventure and the emptiness left by Alphonse's absence siphoned the last of the wanderlust that I'd once revered. Instead of the burgeoning excitement coursing through my body, there was a sort of hollow echo of adventures past.

Without Alphonse, it had been nothing more than a pathetic attempt to recapture what no longer existed. Although our search for the Philosopher's Stone cost more lives than it was worth, the time spent with my brother was irreplaceable. Lamenting the loss of my traveling companion and closest confidant had been costly; instead of reveling in the quest for more, the nights had been unbearable, the enticing lure of more knowledge nothing more than a passing thought. I'd become a shadow of the person I'd once been.

I was merely an observer, watching as the terrain had passed swiftly, the mournful wail of the train's whistle resonating deep within my soul. I'd survived a year in this passive existence, falsely believing that the deafening silence and aching solitude was my due diligence.

A year before I realized that each moment spent away from the familiar would kill me.

And so, I promptly returned to Central and, inevitably, Roy.

Life had changed the moment I stepped back into Central Command; it was as if my sense of purpose had been renewed. I had no one to return to and there were no important missions to complete yet I'd felt as if I'd finally come home.

Thinking back, I'd had everything I needed-until I didn't. Alphonse's companionship, the camaraderie of the team had been the sustenance I sustained on for so long and I'd taken it for granted that they'd remain at my side- yet they hadn't. Facing that reality had been sobering but it hadn't stopped me from making the same shitty mistakes. I'd still been blind to what I had readily denying what had been evident between me and Colonel Bastard, forsaking the hope of something more for senseless pride. Now, I was making up for lost time in the worst way.

Time…that was becoming something of a running theme between us and with each second that ticked away, I felt as if I were just in striking distance and missing the target completely. Two weeks had passed yet I'd had nothing to show for it but a map and a general direction.

No instructions.

No contacts.

The gap was widening and nothing was bringing me closer to _him_.

 _Patience, Edaline, you're on the right track._

How fitting I'd hear the ghostly echo of his encouragement. I cringed as I turned my eyes toward the passing foliage as the train charged ahead toward the East. The rhythmic sway that had once lulled me to sleep on countless nights was now nothing more than a mocking reminder that I was losing ground. He trusted me to find him and I was wasting time, waxing nostalgic about a past I could no longer have. Nothing would be gained from lingering there; I had to focus on what was in front of me.

Shaking off the fog of the past, I glanced down at the disregarded map in my lap, the stark red marking standing out boldly. What was his play in leaving the map? Was I expected to find a semblance of a clue as I traveled? And why the hell did he pick the East, of all places, to travel when there were far more suitable regions to scurry off to, especially if he were trying to remain incognito?

I mean, seriously, the East?

He'd been stationed in East City early on in his career, his name and abilities traveling swiftly on the lips of foes and friends alike. Then came the war in Ishbal; forever known as the Hero of Ishbal, his flame alchemy had been one of many weapons used to reduce an entire race of people to ashes, their lands, their lives scorched beyond repair. He hadn't been the only one who contributed to the decimation of a nation but his actions had guaranteed him a legacy and catapulted him toward the upper echelons of the Amestris military. He'd be a fool to seek refuge in the East- he was too recognizable to segue seamlessly into the unsuspecting crowd.

Apparently, the military had thought the same.

Even though it had only been a mere fourteen days since Roy's disappearance, I'd seen a plethora of posters and prints with his image, the words WANTED and TREASONOUS ACTS standing out starkly in the background. I'd snatched one up at a station, studying his likeliness, entranced by the stern determination captured in his dark blue eyes. And then I summarily trashed it.

I couldn't keep it- there were too many emotions running in tandem. I'd lose sight of the goal and dissolve into a mass of regrets and despondency. I didn't want any of this; the longing, craving the sound of his voice served only to temper my anger. The search was taking a toll on my sensibilities, forcing me to face the one corner of my life that I'd readily disregarded. Dealing with the insatiable desire and yearning for _his_ touch, _his_ voice, _his_ sex had me spiraling out of control. Even now, my body reacted to the phantom marks he'd made, quivering with expectancy at the thought of catching up to him. He'd done this to me, thrown my life into this pit of chaos, scrambling for purchase. It was fucking frustrating and if I had my way, I'd leave him to his fate.

But, I needed answers, a resolution. Considering his parting shot, I figured that I deserved that much.

"What are you thinking, Roy?" I studied the map as if I could glean the answer from its innocuous existence, the marking a beacon for my frustrations. I wasn't sure of what I was looking for, where I was to go- just follow the path toward the red x. I had until the next stop to figure it out. The train was on time and headed for a familiar place.

Perhaps there, I would find what I was looking for.

If only it could be that easy. Roy was nothing if not resourceful; if he was compromised in any form, it was a safe bet that he had fail safes in place. There was no telling what kind or even how many concessions he'd made to ensure he remained a specter. And that meant any questions regarding his whereabouts would raise red flags- and give him reason to run.

So, I'd have to be as clever as he _thought_ he was.

An eerie sensation coursed through my body and I glanced up to see two men sitting a couple of seats a head of me. They were both facing me, their eyes roaming the coach, feigning indifference. They both wore dark suits that were a little threadbare but acceptable and matching scowls along with dangerously sharp gazes. Both of them were finely built; a thick musculature coupled with wide shoulders and staggering height were certainly imposing enough, not to mention the menacing glares and treacherous disposition. They carried themselves as if their striking stature and silent threats were enough to ward off even the most curious.

I was more than curious though- a little work out would expend some of this restless energy and frustration that had built up over the long winding roads already traveled.

I couldn't help but snicker slightly at their _opposing_ façade; if they were attempting to remain aloof, they were doing a piss poor job of it. The audacity of their arrogance was evident in their haughty sneers, their lips turned up in matching twisted grins. Even if they knew of me, of what I'd done, it seemed as if it were a non-issue. They seemed more than ready to tangle.

And I was more than ready to teach them a lesson.

"Bounty hunters, I'd guess." The quiet voice that hovered above me drifted downward as its owner slid into the seat in front of me, successfully blocking my view. I frowned as the man smiled at me as if he knew me, his sleepy blue eyes twinkling with something akin to mischief. He averted his gaze briefly, his eyes lighting on the map in my lap, "If I'm a betting man- and I am- I'm willing to wager that you're on some kind of treasure hunt, right?"

I remained silent. I had no clue who this guy was or why he'd decided to step in when he did. As we stared at each other, I noticed that the two men had risen and made their way out of the compartment without a parting glance. I bit back a sneer as he leaned in closer, extending his hand forward in greetings.

When I didn't take it, he frowned and retracted his offered palm. "Usually, introductions are made at this juncture."

"Usually, strangers mind their damn business," I replied sharply. My opportunity to work out the kinks as it were had left and there was nothing left except him. I chanced a glance at the stranger, keenly aware that he was checking me out- it was kind of hard to miss shameless grin that stretched across his lips, telegraphing his wicked thoughts. He even chuckled and licked his lips.

Subtlety was lost on this idiot.

He laughed and hiked his thumb backwards toward the next compartment, "Friends of yours then? That was a very…interesting conversation you were having."

"We were almost done." With nothing left to add, I folded the map and slipped it into my jacket, ever cognizant that he was watching my every move. I didn't want to engage him further, hoping that he'd take the strained silence for what it was- a well-placed fuck off.

Naturally, he didn't.

"The name's Castor," he supplied as he leaned back, "and you are..."

"Leaving," I answered in a huff as I gathered the map and stood. The pointed glare should've been enough but damn if this ass wasn't getting the hint. He made to get up and I pinned him down with a menacing glower as I reached for my luggage, "If you know what's good for you, you won't follow me."

He simply smirked and winked. "Call me irresponsible then."

I exhaled heavily as I turned to walk away. I didn't need this. I'd rather go kill the rest of the time in the dining compartment or seek out my new friends -anything other than spending another minute talking to this imbecile. I looked back as I made my way down the aisle, catching that same mischievous grin and quickened my pace. There was something oddly familiar and annoying about him and his tireless pursuit.

Passing through the next door, I continued, too wrapped up in hoping that he'd tire of this game quickly and saunter off to irritate the hell out of someone else.

It would explain why I hadn't noticed the fist the size of a boulder that crashed against my face. I toppled backward, losing my luggage on the way down. Before I the ringing could subside, I was snatched up by my jacket and pulled upward by one of the friend's I'd made. His lips were peeled back in a sinister grin as his fists gathered more material and tightened his grip against my throat. He laughed as he pulled me closer, his rancid breath filling the limited space between us. Drops of spittle flew out of his mouth and I closed the eye that wasn't throbbing as he spoke, "Looks like we got a chance after all, Butch. Alchemist or not, I think we can get her to talk."

A dark chuckle filled the air as I cracked open my good eye and peeked around at his partner. He was standing at the ready with his own debauched glint glaring in his eyes. Judging by my captor's words and the predatory gaze in Butch's eyes, it was evident that these two were bounty hunters and they looked as if the promise of violence was the main course. Quick thinking was the only thing that was going to get me out of this with minimal damage- well, that and a small amount of good luck.

"Hey, am I interrupting anything?"

I groaned. Not him…not again.

I craned my neck backwards, wincing at the sharp pain that traveled through my head and exhaled heavily. His long coat billowed behind him as he sauntered past us as if merely on a stroll through a sun filled glade. He wore an arrogant smirk and there was a promise of chaos in his eyes as he stopped between my captor and his partner. He considered us, his eyes narrowed in thought and his slick smile growing with a hint of malicious intent. Something was telling me this was not going to end well. For who, remained to be seen.

He snapped his fingers and turned to me, "Ah, so you're finishing your conversation then?"

"You'd best be served leaving the way you came, friend," my captor growled. His dark eyes never left mine, doubling down on that promise of violence, "This doesn't concern you."

Butch moved forward a step, cracking his knuckles, "But if you don't want to take his word for it, I'll be obliged to show you the way out."

"No, I think I'll stay." Castor strode forward, extending his hand, "I don't think I've introduced myself…" Once again, he was rebuffed by a strained silence, the clang of the train's steel wheels traveling over the tracks reverberating within the hollow space. Retracting his hand, he exhaled wearily, "You Amestrians should learn manners. Perhaps, I'll teach you."

The train's whistle blew. And then all hell broke loose.

Castor moved as if possessed by a demon, his eyes burning with determination as he struck out with a vicious roundhouse, catapulting the burly man into the air. Butch landed roughly on his back but shook it off, rising to his feet quickly, squaring his sights on Castor. The younger man only grinned as he circled Butch, striking out in tandem, his deadly movements so slow and graceful he'd captured both me and my captor's attention.

"We'll start with names," Castor said as he came to a stop. He extended his hand once again, "I'm…"

"Dead," Butch growled as he lunged forward. What happened next was…unimaginable. Just as Butch swung out, Castor stepped out of his reach, extending his right hand away from his body. I could feel the energy swelling and I watched as Butch's hair stood on end, as if the air was saturated with electricity.

Castor smiled, "Once again, I'm Castor". He then snapped his fingers, aiming a white hot electric bolt directly at his opponent. The compartment exploded in a frenzy of light and sound as the wood splintered, leaving a gaping hole where Butch once stood. As the rushing wind filled the compartment, Castor pulled at his sleeves as he approached my captor, his smile widening as he extended his hand once more, a flare of blue electricity sparking between his fingertips. He lifted his brow slightly and the man lowered me gently and stepped back.

"Nice, now, let's try this again. I'm Castor Mustang; it's nice to meet you."


	7. Chapter Six

**Warning: Language**

 **Chapter Six**

The train finally pulled into the station and I didn't hesitate to disembark, snatching up my discarded suitcase and moving away from the luggage car as swiftly as I could. My thoughts were muddled with questions, choice words, and exasperation. Weeks into the hunt for Mustang, spending countless hours in solitude, wondering if I'd missed a detrimental piece of the puzzle, I thought that I'd be ready for whatever I encountered on the road ahead.

But this…

This was unimaginable.

Unthinkable.

Unbelievable.

Mustang had a brother.

And he hadn't thought to clue me in. Not entirely surprising considering our relationship isn't necessarily based on transparency. Evidently, Mustang had deemed this information need to know- and obviously, I didn't need to know.

Until now.

I let that sink in for a moment as I wound my way through the throngs of people, doing my very best to ignore said man. The moment Castor Mustang had introduced himself proper I'd lost any footing that I may have had in this twisted game. As the train barreled into the next stop, the tempest of emotions calmed as I watched Castor soundly disposed of the remaining bounty hunter. Immediately, I began comparing Castor to Roy; the way his body moved, his expressions, even the mischievous, yet calculating glint in his ridiculously brilliant blue eyes- all of it was the exact carbon copy of that bastard of a Colonel.

But there was still a mysterious air about him. As much as he outwardly favored Roy (and he did in all of the most pleasing of ways) there was an underlying hint of vulnerability. Where Roy would strive to keep that side hidden, Castor played fast and loose, challenging those who thought they'd figured him out. At least, that was my first impression of him.

Complexity, intrigue and a side of furtive duplicity combined to form a perfect storm and as hesitant as I was to engage him, it was a potent lure.

Although I loathed conflict, complexity, on the other hand, was a provoking, enticing addiction. It was that unsolvable puzzle, an enigmatic challenge. And it was something I could ill afford to indulge in at the moment. Yet, he persisted in this determined manner, following me close enough to keep me within arm's reach and to pique my interests. The way he practically hovered over me, the near imperceptible hardening of his eyes, told me two things: He took his mission to find and watch over me seriously, and despite his tendency for flippancy, he was experienced at the art of war.

I slowed my pace and glanced back at him to catch him looking at me with a sort of goofy innocence that reminded me somewhat of Alphonse. The intense shadow that had taken up residence on his brow had lifted and he smiled widely, brandishing what could've been the whitest set of teeth known to man. Although very skillful and perhaps more dangerous than he'd let on, Castor exuded a boyish charm that even surpassed his brother's decadently sinful attractiveness. And that made him just that much more dangerous.

That didn't negate my need for answers. Boyish charms and adorable smiles aside, Castor's presence was an unpredictable piece of this ever evolving conundrum. I needed to get him alone. If for nothing more than to get an idea of the sort of alchemy he was dealing in.

The memory of him staring down his opponent made me shudder. His eyes had been deadly and sharp as he manipulated the treacherous, yet beautiful arcs of electricity effortlessly. It was as if he were merely running his hands through water. I knew power when I saw it and how it corrupted even the most gentle of hearts. The smiles were an effective way to fend off the curious but there was no doubt that Castor harbored a wealth of strength. I only hoped that his strength was enough to forestall the inevitable greed that came with his unimaginable power.

"Have you made any arrangements or were you planning on hanging at the station until morning?" I stopped and turned to him and he grinned wider, "I mean, if you don't have a place to lay your head, you could tag along with me."

His audacity wasn't surprising, more so amusing and I leveled my best skeptical glare at him before faltering into a small smirk. "You're a piece of work, Must- Castor." The idea of calling Castor by something so intimate, something as familiar as Roy's surname made me uneasy. Shaking it off, I hastily cleared my throat and shifted the suitcase into my other hand as I turned to walk away, "Finding it difficult to mind your own business, are you?"

It wasn't long before I heard him hasten to pursue, his long stride easily catching up to me. This time, he fell in step beside me. I chanced a glance at him, suddenly indignant at the way his lips turned upward and how utterly attractive I found his smile.

"It's not something I'm very good at," he admitted wryly. My triumphant grin was met with a nasty smirk, "But, when your mark is so predictable...that's when the fun starts."

I ignored his obvious attempt at baiting and pushed through the doors, emerging onto the street. I was amazed at what I saw; the sleepy town I'd passed through many times throughout the years had suddenly grown, the dusty paths and crumbling buildings now replaced with paved streets and refurbished storefronts. The streets were alive with a festive feel. The cacophony of engines, horns, mixed with the raucous but good natured revelry of a group of inebriated citizens filled a space that had once been quiet and desolate. My lips curved upward with a sinister smile of my own as I watched the group move on, likely heading to the next pub. I was more than willing to follow, happy to lose myself to the distraction. Until his hand captured my arm, effectively stopping me in my tracks.

I tossed him a deadly glare, "Just because I have a black eye doesn't mean that I'm helpless. If you know what's best for you, you'll let me go."

His piercing gaze and grip were resolute, challenging me to defy his silent order to stay. People moved around us, a few of them acknowledging the interrupted flow with an annoyed glance.

An eerie quiet settled between us and I stared at him, the subtle lift in my brow tossing that fucking challenge right back at him. My posture stiffened even more as we stared each other down, neither of us willing to give in. Damn if he was going to waltz into my life only hours ago and think he'd run it. His brother hadn't had much success in that matter and at the rate he was going, he wasn't doing much better to sway me into compliance.

After a moment, he hesitantly relinquished his hold on my arm, the building fury in his eyes evidence enough that he wasn't the least bit happy. I couldn't help but smile at his show of obstinacy, his glare a mere shadow of what Roy could pull off. He was trying, I'd give him that, but if he wanted compliance, he'd have to put a bit more effort into it.

I shook my head as I began walking again, desperate to get to the pub and unwind. This day was turning into a clusterfuck of epic proportions, and it wasn't over.

Not by a long shot.

It wasn't long before Castor fell in step with me once more, this time with a small smirk on his lips. Judging from his expression, he was about to speak and I could only imagine what would come out of his mouth.

"You're pretty smart, you know that?"

Alright, he was off to a good start; flattery always tempered the fury. Casting him a sidelong glance, I humored him, "Very true, I am smart. How did you come to this conclusion?"

He carded his fingers through his dark hair, the escaping silky strands falling over his eyes. If one were to stare long enough, they'd be easily entranced, an annoying trait that was obviously passed down from the elder Mustang. When he smiled, I groaned inwardly, cursing the day I'd fallen for that bastard. Castor only served to remind me of what I'd been missing for two weeks. And that didn't bode well for either of us.

"How did you put two and two together?" When I didn't answer, he continued, "Granted, I favor Roy but no one's ever heard of me, I've not been around, and most certainly, Roy's never talked about me. It was a guess, a lucky one at that."

I quirked my brow at him and shook my head, "Lucky guess my ass. I could spot you a mile away. You and Roy exude this…this annoying habit of arrogance and entitlement, as if others should be grateful for your presence."

"Arrogant?" he huffed as he narrowed his brow and poked his lips outward. I laughed at his show of mulishness, his pouting reminding me more of my little brother than some conceited jerk. "You assume much, Fullmetal Alchemist. What you believe to be arrogance is merely confidence in ability. Ever stop to think that we're just that good?"

 _A heaping dose of hubris coming right up…_

"Just that good… Humble isn't a word you know well, is it?"

"Truth hurts, huh?" He pinned me with a bemused smirk, telegraphing his belief that he'd one upped me. His handsome visage did nothing to quirk my ire; that devilish smirk was equally enticing and maddening, tossing me into a maelstrom of uncertainty. I swallowed thickly as he held my gaze, a tuft of laughter escaping his lips. "I must've hit a nerve."

"As I said, you and your big brother just exude _confidence_ ," I answered blithely. The pub was within my sight. I couldn't wait to shake him and his inane prattle.

"Maybe I was a bit premature on the smart thing," he countered smoothly. I cut my eyes toward him, noticing as he stared ahead of him, his gaze focused on our destination. A sneaky smile emerged as he shook his head, "Always assuming will get you nowhere. I'm not the little brother."

"Yeah, sure," I muttered, "you're older than Roy. And I'm next in line for Furher."

"Well, we'll have a chance to ask the man very soon."

"So you know where he is then?" I stopped just shy of the pub and leveled my eyes with him, searching his for any hints of duplicity. I didn't know Castor from a can of paint but I had my ways of discerning the truth. I waited for his answer.

There was none forthcoming. And that irritated the shit out of me.

Exhaling heavily, I started walking again, allowing the growing din of revelers to relieve the silence. It didn't seem as if Castor were ready to expound merely content to exist in this space with me, as if we were simply traveling companions on holiday. It was an odd feeling though; despite him clamming up and my growing frustrations I found that with Castor, there wasn't an air of expectation, just a willingness to follow my lead and challenge it every step of the way.

"Hey, got a question for you." His voice sounded loud as it mixed in with the loud laughter that drifted out of the pub. I chanced a glance at his expression, surprised to find it placid, his eyes riveted to the path in front of him. He was truly worlds away from Roy; where the fire alchemist would demand answers, Castor was…patient and unnervingly calculating.

"I may or may not answer you," I replied, refocusing on the raucous din that awaited us. He had but a moment before we were swallowed by liquor and carousing whereas anything important would cease to exist. I cracked a grin, "Better make it quick. I intend on losing you in there."

"Alright, fair enough," he laughed lightly, "Are you and Roy um…"

"No."

"I didn't even finish the question!"

"No need, I can tell that it's going to be…what was it again?"

"None of my business?" he offered.

"Bingo! You get a gold star for today," I groused as I snatched the door open and entered, grateful that the pub was overflowing with patrons, making it far easier for me to make good on my promise. I didn't waste any time weaving my way through the throngs of men and women who were laughing as the waitresses moved quickly in hopes of keeping the intoxicated happy and their glasses filled. The bartender was frantic to keep up with the orders, his ruddy face and stout fingers moving expertly as he poured for his guests, the faint hint of a greedy smile precluding any distress that he'd have about the ratio of waitresses to patrons.

It wasn't until I'd made my way to the end of the bar that I finally relaxed, my eyes casting a furtive search for Castor. Happy to have finally lost him, I lifted my finger to order, catching the eye of the bartender who merely nodded in my direction. It'd been a while since I'd had a chance to indulge in my many vices. The drink would satisfy one and the other…I'd have to wait on. The search for Roy had leeched away my time and I hardly needed, much less wanted, a distraction. But in my failure to find him and Castor's appearance, I found that I'd become ravenous for both sex and drink in no time.

The bartender finally approached and I smiled. A few shots, a few glasses of whiskey- just enough to settle my nerves- and then I'd make my escape. If luck were on my side, I'd lost Castor for good, giving me a chance to find a place to stay for the night before hopping the next thing smoking out of there. As much as it had surprised me, the fact that Castor been commissioned to find me had me on alert. I had no idea why Roy had sent him and my trust, as far as he was concerned, was a long way from being satisfied.

"Whaddya have, Miss?"

"Whiskey, neat," I called out. He nodded and waddled away to fill the order, leaving me to shrink into the shadows and watch. As loud as it was in the pub, I found my little enclave to be quite serene. The bubble of silence gave me a chance to think clearly, to ponder the steps made and the ones still left to make. Castor represented a hitch in the plan; his elusiveness and ridiculously handsomeness were a dangerous mix. I had to be careful not to let anything deter me from my own mission. I leaned on the sticky wood, shoving my hand through my hair as I stared at my reflection in the mirror situated behind the bar. I was weary of what was to come yet, I had to bolster myself and keep it moving. Answers awaited me at the end of this chase and I hadn't intended on letting them slip through my fingers so easily.

It wasn't long before the bartender returned with my whiskey and I'd thought twice about palming him a few cenz for the bottle but relented. The last thing I needed at the moment was a weakness and being drunk off of my ass was a hell of a weakness.

I tossed the bartender a coy smile as I settled in, the memory of a night much like tonight filtering through my mind. Just as I'd been that night, I sat alone, nursing a drink, fraught over Mustang and his odd behavior. I tossed the drink back quickly, the satisfying burn chasing the memories away. If I lost myself to the vision of lust and insatiable desire he'd gifted me, there'd be no way I'd leave this establishment without someone having to carry me.

I simply couldn't afford a walk down memory lane, not with Mustang's phantom hovering in the shadows. That path was best left for when I could see him again.

Just as I lifted my finger for another, I felt a presence just to the right of me, concealed by the deep shadows. It didn't take long for me to figure out who it was.

"Tsk, tsk, Elric. You're a slick one." Castor tossed me a self-indulgent smile as he lifted his finger as well, leaning against my shoulder, "Care if I join you for a few rounds?"

Fighting the desire to plant my fist in his face, I muttered, "Well, I did warn you." When it was evident he wasn't going to cave, I ignored him and ordered my second round, hiking my thumb toward him. He shot me a surprised glance and I gestured grandly toward the bartender, "Since your sole intent is to drive me insane, first round is on me."

Castor laughed more and ordered, watching as the bartender sauntered away. I didn't want to give him my attention and so I directed my line of sight to the pock marked wood, suddenly very interested in the aging grains of the wood. I could feel his discerning eyes on me and it was fucking creepy. My skin crawled, the anxious energy coursing up and down my body. Just like his brother, Castor's proximity was unnerving yet alluring. I was disgusted by the sudden burst of feverish lust that had inundated every nerve causing me to twitch slightly. It was Castor's fault; he reminded me so much of Roy that my body had decided he would be a good enough proxy to expend some pent up… _aggression_.

Fuck, this wasn't what I needed. But damn if it wasn't what I wanted.

The bartender couldn't have come back at a better moment and I wasted no time in slinging the glass backward, slamming it down on the bar even as my finger rose for another while reaching for my wallet. Tossing back a couple wasn't going to work. "How much for the bottle?"

Castor leaned closer and I groaned. If he only knew what kind of beast he was tempting, he'd give me a wide berth. As it were, he grabbed my arm and swiftly turned me to face him. "You're not doing this. Not now."

I struggled to gain purchase against his grip even as I averted my eyes. The more I looked at Castor, the more I saw _him_.

"Last time I checked, I was a grown woman, perfectly able to make decisions." Pulling away from him, I staggered back some, aware that the patrons that were closest to us were now eavesdropping. I didn't need any more of an audience than I'd already had. I needed to get away, to get away from Castor and the shadowed demons he'd resurrected. The longing for Roy, for his touch, his explanation was becoming a burden, one I wanted to escape.

But every turn, he was there- even if he weren't.

"You're making very bad decisions at the moment, Ed." Castor reached to pull me to his side, holding me there as he reached inside of his coat pocket to pull out his wallet. With his free hand, he maneuvered a few bills out and tossed them on the bar. He turned to walk away, taking my hand into his and holding on tightly. He glanced back and tossed me a genuine smile, "My mission was to find you. I have and I'm not keen on letting you go."

"That's what I'm afraid of," I said lowly. I don't know if he heard me or not but it didn't seem to matter as he wound his way through the crowd. Once free of the pub, he stopped and turned to regard me with plaintive eyes, "We've had a day, maybe we should go and get some rest."

A mirthless laugh escaped my lips. He wasn't fooling anyone with his ploy. "Nice try, Castor. I think I can find my way."

"That may be true," he started as he began pulling me behind him, "but as I said, I've found you and I'm not going to let you go. Besides, Roy would roast me if something happened to you."

Curious, I asked, "So, you know where he is?"

A wide smile emerged as he shook his head and quickened his pace, "Ever the inquisitive."

"It's the only way I can find the truth."

Silence fell between us as he navigated his way toward an inn. I watched him as he lead me, our footfalls out of step with each other. I'd noticed something in that moment, something that unnerved me far more than the indulgent lust and longing that had plagued me.

He hadn't answered either of my questions.


	8. Chapter Seven

**Warning: Profuse language, violence, and attempted assault.**

 **Chapter Seven**

 _I spent the night with him._

Despite every effort to steer clear, despite the warning bells sounding off in my ears, despite the fierce determination to snatch my hand away, despite the vigorous throbbing of my heart, I willfully followed him into oblivion. It was a terrible idea but I'd long given in to the notion that this was my fated destiny. I'd traveled the roads for weeks, lost in my desires for a resolution that I'd let my guard down.

And he took full advantage of my slight.

It happened almost immediately; the moment I'd eyed the bed with equal parts of anticipation and anxiety I knew that I'd be lost to his touch. The walls I'd erected were steadily crumbling and he was there to catch me as I fell. It was probably inevitable though. He'd been there as he always had, in the corner of my thoughts and when he finally made his move, I couldn't help but feel a rush of relief. All of the unease, the uncertainty had vanished at the first caress and as shameful as I should've felt, I welcomed it with open arms, delighted that the ravenous hunger I'd felt for him would be satisfied. I'd been unbound, released of the burden of his recklessness.

 _I spent the night with him and I don't regret it._

Especially after waking up to find the bed empty. My first thought was that of abandonment, the same darkness I'd felt the last time he'd sated his lusts and fled into the night. Enveloped within the hallowed memories, the tears I'd sworn to never shed again welled but didn't drop. Familiar phantoms lingered as I blinked away the last vestiges of a night lost to lurid desires, yet the disgrace I'd expected never materialized. I needed it, I deserved it, and, goddamn it, I wanted it.

It lasted only a few fleeting hours and then he was gone, escaping into the ether of the gloaming of a new day. I watched him go, fading with a deliciously depraved smile on his lips. It was only then that I felt the echo of loneliness.

 _I spent the night with him…_

"I see you're finally up."

Castor's voice startled me and I jumped slightly as I kept my eyes firmly affixed on the ceiling desperately fighting back the tears as they surged forth. I hesitated to move, wanting to stay there just a while longer, to linger in the hazy dream world I'd left behind, a world where Roy had been, where we'd finally found each other. I'd spent the night dreaming, mired in lulls of debauchery and sinful decadence running in tandem. With each pulsating thump of my heart, I could feel him as he devoured me in every way, wasting no time or effort in claiming my essence, my heart once more. Roy had been wrought into reality for just a moment in time, his touch fringed with fire and his honeyed voice had encapsulated me, trapping me in that fugue state and I was reticent to let go.

But morning had come chasing away the last whispers of ecstasy.

I bit my lip hard to stop the tears. I couldn't afford them, not now.

The silence was deafening in the room and I chanced a glance toward Castor, catching his pensive stare. I should've been more worried than I was about him especially since I'd known next to nothing about him. Aside from knowing that he was Roy's brother and assuming that he'd been sent to watch over me, there was nothing that posited him as trustworthy. Still, my desires had considered him a good enough stand in for Roy and, apparently, provoked that sinfully salacious dream. As I thought, Castor was dangerous in so many ways simply because of who he was.

I was thankful that I hadn't had the chance to drink my way into that mistake; as much as Castor looked and acted like Roy, he simply wasn't and to give him something that was meant for only Roy would've compounded the multitude of problems I already had.

But…I'd be lying if I said I hadn't toyed with the idea a bit though.

Pulling away from that disaster waiting to happen, I threw him a slight smile as I sat up, careful to keep the covers in place. As much as he'd been the ever cordial gentleman, he was still a man- a Mustang at that. No need to callously tempt the baying wolf, right?

In light of my baser desires, I pulled the duvet tighter, choosing to ignore the tension that seemed to permeate the air between us. He held my gaze, his own filled with a curious shade of intent. I could only imagine what he was thinking and judging by the way his alluring blue eyes flashed hungrily there wasn't any need to risk finding out.

"I need to get up, I might've missed the first train out but I can't afford to miss the next one."

When he didn't take the cue, I exhaled heavily as I cast my gaze toward the window, absently noting the faint rays that streamed through. The muffled sounds of an awakening city filtered in, the muted horns and engines reminding me of the mission at hand. A certain Colonel needed to be found and I needed to kick his ass, if for nothing more than putting me in this uncomfortable position with _his_ brother of all people.

Castor still hadn't moved. Scratch that, he did move, his confident stride placing him right at the edge of the bed. There was this weight of anticipation as he hovered as if he were merely waiting for the moment to pounce. I turned to find him smirking.

Probably not the wisest move on his part but if he wanted a trial by fire…

"I get it, Castor…really, I do. You're in charge of making sure that I'm safe and you want to do a good job for your big brother."

"He's not the oldest…"

I stood quickly, flinging the covers away proudly, effectively stifling his pathetic rebuttal. If I weren't irritated, I'd laughed at his flabbergasted expression but as it were, it only served to remind me a more pressing matter. I had things to do and no time to waste; I couldn't let _his_ trail grow cold.

When it was apparent that he wasn't going to stop staring, I smirked and approached him, making sure to roll my hips for effect.

Coming to his side, I leaned into his arm and stood on the tips of my toes to whisper in his ear, "Mustang's not the only one who is proficient in manipulation. You have no idea what kind of damage I could do."

He swallowed thickly as he glanced down at me, his once confident eyes now shimmering with uncertainty. I lifted my hand to card my fingers through his inky tresses, making sure to hold his gaze, "You're in way over your head, Cas. You should probably quit while you're a head."

 _Good advice, Edaline…_

I smiled and patted his shoulder, giving him a coy wink for good measure. The deafening silence was evidence enough that my ploy had worked. Finally, I'd bested a Mustang. Now if I could calm my racing heart and trembling limbs, I'd call it a complete success.

Fuck if that was going to happen though because I felt the weight of his eyes on me with every step I took, even as I knelt to collect my suitcase. Still, I continued with the act.

"If you want something to do, Castor, you could start by checking for the next train and order up some coffee." Coming to the door that led to the bathroom, I paused and smiled sweetly, "How's that for predictability?"

With that, I entered the bathroom and carefully closed the door behind me, leaving a befuddled Mustang in my wake. I dropped my suitcase and leaned against the door, eyes riveted to the ceiling. Even though exasperated, I couldn't help but laugh at the turn of events.

As weird as it was to use my feminine wiles to tilt Castor's world on its axis, I couldn't say that it wasn't the most uncomfortable thing I'd done.

I'm young yet.

* * *

I emerged from the bathroom fully dressed twenty minutes later to find a full coffee service complete with an assortment of breakfast pastries and a single red carnation. I cut my eyes toward him, noticing how he studied the wall, feigning interest in something other than me. His obstinate refusal to make eye contact coupled with his silence was evidence enough: Castor Mustang was pouting and making a very good show of it.

Taking a seat, I eyed him over the rim of the porcelain cup, taking my time to read him. He was like Roy in so many ways, even more so now that he'd been flustered and left speechless by my brazen move. I couldn't help the grin that stretched across my lips at the way his turned inward in a stern frown or the way his blue eyes shimmered with something akin to awe – as if intrigued and somewhat pleased at my audacious act but was reticent to acknowledge he'd been rattled. Pride bloomed within my chest; it wasn't often that one stumped a Mustang.

And I'd done so with a simple twitch of my hips. Talk about predictability.

"Instead of sulking maybe you can be a little useful and tell me when the next train is scheduled to leave." I'd quickly grown bored with his childish behavior and was anxious to get back on track. I'd already wasted time and opportunity here; I'd been in the town for twelve hours and I hadn't sought out anything resembling a lead.

"You're oh…about three hours too late for that; the last train left at about seven-thirty." His words were dripping with arrogance as he finally turned around and faced me fully. The indignant glare and frown were gone, replaced with that familiar, if not sickening Mustang grin- the one that made me want to kick his ass.

Teetering on the precipice of absolute rage, I rubbed my thighs, the soothing sensation keeping me right there on the edge. I was about to ask a question and depending on his answer, I'd either walk out of here alone or use what was left in my account to pay for the inevitable damage. "What do you mean the last train left at seven-thirty?"

"Looks like you're out of luck, Elric. The Fall Solstice Festival's pretty much shut down the town. No trains in or out until tomorrow morning." His condescending smirk wasn't the least bit helpful and I wanted to be the better person and leave him right there without touching him but I didn't trust myself to move. For if I even thought about standing, I was pretty certain that I'd have a grand time rearranging his face. Weird alchemy or not, he was toeing the line of tolerance, playing the devil's advocate with of my frayed nerves – and his probability of leaving the room unscathed had decreased _incrementally_.

Against better judgement, I persisted.

"If you knew that then why didn't you wake me up, _Castor_?" Even as the words left my mouth, I knew his answer would be stupid and do nothing more than further aggravate me. I didn't wait for him to answer only moving to stand quickly and make my way to the door, dipping to pick up my suitcase in the process. I may have been stuck here but I sure as hell wasn't stuck with him. If he knew better, he wouldn't follow me.

"Wait a minute, Ed."

Naturally, he didn't hesitate.

 _Well, you knew what you were getting into…_

Now wasn't the time for Roy's phantom taunting. There was a problem, a _big_ problem and I was in no mood for a rational discussion.

He reached out and snagged my arm, gently tugging it back. My eyes first went to his hand and then to his face, quickly mapping out where my first punch would land. I eyed his lips, a flush of longing colliding with the anger. Slightly disgusted and totally pissed off, I tried to snatch my arm out of his grasp. Once again, he was oblivious to the blatant cues.

"You like trying your luck, don't you?" I bit out. It would only take a bit of effort to free my arm long enough to clap them together and I could fucking wreck him. Clenching my teeth, I issued a warning, "Understand this, _Mustang_ , your brother knew his limits with me and sometimes I let him skirt past them." Leaning closer to him, I pinned him with my hardening gaze, "I will _not_ be so lenient with you."

He countered with a self-righteous smirk. "Well, if you'd gotten up a bit earlier, you wouldn't be in this predicament, would you?"

The nerve of this asshole... Apparently, he was on good terms with whatever deity he worshipped because he was a tenacious fucker.

"You could've…I don't know… _maybe_ woken me up?!"

"What good would that had done? It was pretty obvious by the snoring that you weren't getting up anytime soon."

It took a measure of patience that I didn't know I had to keep from pummeling him into the ground. I'd been wrong- he was nothing like Roy. Roy would know when to stop, would know that the slight twitch in my eye and thinning of my lips were precursors to what amounted to catastrophic destruction.

He would know when to back the fuck off.

Castor was only interested in pushing the line ever forward, challenging me to do my worst. As angry as I was, why was his defiance so titillating?

Shaking those treacherous thoughts away, I succeeded in freeing myself from his grasp and walked toward the door. Without a backwards glance, I tossed up a dismissive wave, "Looks like you've just fucked up your mission, Castor."

"WAIT! Wait a minute, Edaline!" I paused. Was that a hint of genuine fear? Slowly, I turned to see him reaching outwardly, panic stealing away the once pompous gleam in his eyes. He approached cautiously, keeping his hands in front of him, splayed as a sign of reassurance. "Okay, so I got off to a bad start…"

Oh this was priceless.

Catching a Mustang off guard was rare enough- witnessing an admission of imperfection was nigh improbable. Yet he was contrite now that he'd forced his hand. He may have been the older brother but it seemed as if he still had a lot to learn from Roy.

I turned to him, not completely ready to forgive and forget but willing to at least listen. Of course, I wouldn't let him off so easily. "Admit that you're a complete idiot that can't read simple social cues and I'll consider sticking around." He hesitated but a subtle lift of my brow prompted an answer.

"I'm a complete idiot that can't read simple social cues," he replied dryly. "Are we really doing this, Ed?"

"Yes, we are. Now, since you failed miserably, I'm commissioning you as an escort." I dropped my suitcase and gestured to the door, "We're stuck here for twenty-four hours, might as well get some reconnaissance in."

A genuine smile rose as he walked toward the door, "And by reconnaissance, you mean drink me under the table?"

"Semantics," I replied with a halfhearted shrug. If I managed to catch a few hours of leisure time, I wouldn't be opposed to killing it in a pub. But business came first. We'd scope the town out for any signs that Roy had been there and then rest until the trains ran the next day.

Castor opened the door and stepped aside, "The town's really not that big. I'm sure we'll be done with our inquisition before sundown."

There was a mischievous connotation in Castor's words and I stopped short of crossing the threshold, turning to face him with a clever smirk of my own, "Whatever you've got planned in that pea brained mind of yours, Castor, reconsider."

"I hadn't said a word," he offered smoothly. Again, a familiar easiness settled about us. This time, though, I wasn't nearly as skittish as I had been before. I didn't say anything as he gestured toward the door, "After you."

I couldn't help but feel as if I were walking into an elaborately planned trap.

Hours later, as the sun dipped to the west, we'd made our way toward our third pub. We'd spent the entire day touring the town, lobbing soft inquiries as to the whereabouts of a certain alchemist. Many that we'd encountered hadn't heard of him while others had glanced suspiciously between Castor and me before waving us away.

I could understand their disbelief; I was walking around with a carbon copy of Roy Mustang. The locals had to think I was a complete loon. I didn't let it bother me too much though. All said and done, I'd leave this town tomorrow with nary a glance. There was one thing that did trouble me however; there were still many that watched us, careful to stay closer to the shadows. I'd offered our first pub in the hopes of luring our voyeurs out into the open but no such luck.

The second pub yielded nothing more than a few carousing songs and laughter, our glasses filled endlessly with some kind of alcohol. Even as I drank, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being watched.

"Would love to know what you're thinking at the moment." Surprisingly, Castor was holding his own after taking shot after shot of bourbon at the second pub only listing slightly to the left as we walked. A small giggle escaped my lips and he smiled widely, "You've been shockingly quiet, Edaline Elric."

"Whass that 'sposed to mean?" I frowned slightly before sloppily pushing him away. I was well on my way, having started mixing my liquors at the second pub and drinking my fill. We hadn't found anything of worth on Roy and I'd just as soon drown my worries than to fret on them. I had plenty of time to recover before meeting the train to our next destination.

Wait, when did this become a _we_?

Castor grabbed me about my waist to prevent me from falling on my ass, pulling me close to him. Our eyes met and for a moment, Roy was in front of me. I relaxed slightly and turned to him fully, wrapping my arms around his neck. All of my inhibitions were fucked, and I knew it. Problem was I didn't give a damn.

And judging by the look in Castor's eyes, he didn't have a problem with my train of thought.

"You know, you never did tell me about your alchemy," I offered. His confounded expression pulled another tuft of laughter out of me as I slid my fingers through his hair, reveling in its silkiness. "What, you asked what I was thinkin'…I'm thinkin' I wanna know about your alchemy."

A few pedestrians grumbled as they passed us and soon, the streets were quieting despite the beginning of the early evening festivities. Families were returning home after a rousing festival, the jubilant cries of excitement seguing to raucous laughter tempered with boisterous music as the single and the free lingered. None of that mattered at the moment, only the way Castor was looking at me.

Amazing what a few hours and a couple dozen of drinks would do.

Castor maneuvered us closer to the inside of the sidewalk, near the dark alleys between the buildings, his smile brightening even more. Apparently, he liked the sensation of my fingers weaving through his hair. He exhaled slowly as his eyes roamed before returning to mine, "My alchemy huh? You'd be surprised to know that it's not just alchemy."

"Ooh, this is going to be good," I purred. I bit my lip as I pulled myself closer, "Tell me more."

"Interesting," Castor responded easily. I barely noticed that he'd broken our gaze once more only realizing it as he pulled me along with him. Annoyed, I tried to stop him but he kept moving, "I'll tell you more about it as soon as I take care of a little business."

Without another word, he tossed me into the next alley, spinning around quickly just in time to see a fist flying toward his face. I watched passively as Castor flew backwards and landed on his back, the impact taking his breath away. When he didn't move, I turned my attention to the mass of approaching bodies, my frown deepening.

"Heard you've been looking for the Flame Alchemist." The first body emerged from the shadows, illuminated by the pale moon that had just made its perch in the sky. He cracked his knuckles as he bent down, "looks to me like you found him." He turned to his brethren, which numbered more than five, by the way, and barked out, "I get first dibs on the lady. You guys have at it with Mustang."

Either I was too drunk to understand what was happening or I suddenly lost the ability to give a fuck but before I knew it, he'd clamped down on my arms and shoved me against the wall, my head glancing off of the brick. He made short work of my trousers, shoving them down roughly. A streak of panic coursed through my body and I reacted, sloppily trying to shove him away. He gained purchase easily and laughed as he struck me across the cheek, my head crashing against the hardened brick again.

Flashes of pain melded with images of what was about to happen and my body took over. I bucked against him and he laughed once more, leaning in closer to my ear. I cringed at the heat of his breath slicing across my skin but bared my teeth in absolute defiance.

"You're a fighter; this is going to be good."

I could hear the hollow thuds and low grunts coming from where Castor lay. I had to do something before this went from bad to worst. My opportunity came when my attacker raised my hands above my head. My head cleared enough for me to clap my hands and press them against his wrists, the echoing wave of alchemic power catapulting him toward the opposite wall. A fine mist settled about me as I stared at the smoking form now lying motionless against the wall. It didn't take long to figure out that it was blood and that he was missing both of his arms.

Almost immediately I heard a snap and felt the roaring heat as it found its target, the muffled cries of agony seeming to dwindle. I slid down the and rested my head against the wall, taking deep gulps of air. Now that the adrenaline was filtering out of my body, the pain roared to life, threatening to drown me in an encroaching darkness.

Another snap followed by a brilliant blue stream of heat flashed before me but I paid it no attention. I was quickly losing my battle with the darkness and welcoming it with each breath.

The alley was silent again, save for a few groans and angry voices that seemed to grow louder.

"Simple, it was a simple task!"

"I did what was asked!"

"I don't recall instructing you to let your guard down!"

"Shut the fuck up!" I screamed. I lifted my hand to cradle my head only for it to slip downward. Two pairs of hands pulled me up and I opened my eyes. I laughed hollowly as one pair pulled my trousers up and the other cupped my head gently. I was slipping even further but managed a soft exhale, "Oh great, there are two of you."

And then darkness.


	9. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

Oh, this feeling was so familiar.

Even as my body had threatened a violent revolt and left me within inches of death, even after I'd sworn off alcohol, promised that if I'd survived the last idiotic incident-yes, I considered sleeping with Mustang _while_ heavily intoxicated an idiotic incident- I'd tripped down that rabbit hole again. And I did it without hesitation, all because of a Mustang.

Roy or Castor, it didn't matter. Both of them on their own and together had been a thorn in my side, both mind-numbingly gorgeous and equally infuriating, both of them worming their way into my heart in such an arrogant yet endearing way, both of them the stars of my own lurid, alcohol fueled dreams…

Clearly, I was still drunk. Thinking of them at a time like this was stupid. I should've been concentrating on how I'd survive the next moments without breathing, because even that minute movement had sent ripples of agony throughout my body. Ripples that then segued into violent waves that crashed against my already sensitive stomach, provoking the acrid bile that inched its way up my throat.

I'd considered smothering myself with a pillow if I weren't seconds from throwing up. Instead, I kept still, my thoughts lingering yesterday's lucid moments, moments I could remember clearly because I'd not yet shoved that vile, yet alluring poison down my throat. It wasn't long before I'd hit a brick wall, the clear thoughts fading into cloudy apparitions, phantom images of violence and that brief but visceral sensation of fear. Something happened last night, something terrifying. As a torturous bolt of white hot pain sliced through my brain, I wondered if it were best that those memories remained ensconced in darkness.

The pain had become unbearable and the violent waves had funneled into a tempest of destruction. I could taste the corrosive burn of the acid rising, my mouth watering. I didn't want to open my eyes, much less move but my body was shifting on its own, self-preservation and the undeniable need to not be covered in my own vomit winning out.

My eyes were still closed, because, hey, I could blindly flip over on my side and slide off of the bed with ease- granted that I had retained some voluntary use of my limbs. But the remnants of the alcohol flushed through my blood, reanimating my arms and legs at random. I imagined that I looked like a macabre version of a puppet with tangled strings, sure that my hair was in all sorts of disarray, the lines of the sheets and pillows leaving red welts along the canvas of my body. My limbs trembled but that was beside the point- I needed to move and do it quickly.

My muscles protested the profound stiffness and ache now surging through my entire body. I didn't have time to bitch and moan about it- things were happening at a rapid pace and nothing could stop my forward momentum.

Unfortunately, something did.

I flailed about wildly and connected with something hard, a heavy thud and then a rough grunt reaching my ears. I went to my knees before the kinetic energy fizzled completely, landing on top of something remarkably soft yet, pleasantly solid.

"Goddammit, Ed..."

Castor…I'd fallen on top of Castor. An apology was on my lips, it really was and I wanted to quickly give voice to that apology…

What came out was, far and away, not an apology. The violent nausea that had assaulted my stomach had finally exploded outward in a never ending stream- all on top of Castor...

I heaved until there was nothing left, the foul stench of my sickness quickly filling the air. I groaned and finally listed to the side, unable and unwilling to open my eyes. When the world finally stopped spinning, I would have to mount an impressive campaign of contrition to smooth this over-something I wasn't exactly looking forward to.

The silence in the air hummed with anticipation, Castor's disgruntled groans followed by the distinct sound of the door opening and closing swiftly. I grimaced at the thundering footfalls as they approached.

This wasn't good. As of last night, it was just the two of us.

So if Castor was on the floor then who was…

"Absence truly does make the heart grow fonder," the jovial voice said as it came closer. The laughter in his voice was deafening. I could feel my body warming under the embarrassment, my limbs trembling for an entirely different reason now. "Such a lovely gift for a returning comrade… Roy, I'm jealous."

Now that my stomach was empty, it made for an easy receptacle for my heart as it plummeted. Castor's smug voice echoed in my ear as I cracked my eyes open and looked to my left at his prone body, smothered from the chest down. His eyes were closed and his chest rose and fell with calm breaths as he remained silent, deathly still.

I could've spoken, could've actually given a voice to the stream of apologies that ran through my mind. I could've killed Castor for standing there, laughing at us instead of pitching in to help.

I could've done an assortment of things but I didn't. I laid there beside him, eyes closed, voice constricted by mortification, waiting for the Earth to open up and swallow me whole. A death by a thousand fiery blades was a death too tame for what I'd done.

Really, if I managed to survive this, I was kicking alcohol to the curb.

He exhaled and my head snapped in his direction, revving up the pounding working on my temples. Despite the torturous thudding against my skull, I opened my eyes again to find him staring at me, specks of vomit lingering on his chin. The corner of his lips turned up slightly as he smirked fondly, his voice soft and devoid of any fire, "And good morning to you, Edaline."

After weeks of boundless doubts and rigorous travels, of questions with no answers, weeks of a wounded heart beating for a resolution… Roy was here.

Roy…was here.

A swarm of emotions swirled within me yet I couldn't say a word. A silent tear traveled down my cheek as he reached toward me. Even though covered in vomit, his eyes remained gentle, telegraphing the unspoken words I'd longed to hear. Apparently, he'd added a new smirk to his repertoire, one filled with faith, hope, of love.

"Roy, I'm…"

"No worries, Ed. I've got a long list of apologies to give. But first…"

I would kick his ass later, right now, I just wanted his touch.

* * *

After weeks of searching for him, weeks of pursuing him just to exact a measure of retribution, craven for a resolution, I found that talking to him was quite difficult. All the hellfire that had been simmering was oddly dormant, my mind once filled with the corrosive words I wanted to say now curiously empty. The rancor, all of the pain, the hurt, the disillusion…

All of it gone.

In its place stirred emotions that I'd locked away a long time ago, emotions I'd been too afraid to explore, emotions that had come to fruition when I was just a mere teenager and only blossomed just a couple of years prior. A weak pulsating thump threaded to life as I sat in front of Roy, worrying my lip as my jumbled thoughts scurried about in frenzy. The woman I'd become clashed head on with the child I'd been, the pride, the hubris, the confidence wavering under his quiet, contemplative gaze.

It was as if I was on trial and Roy was judge, jury and executioner.

This momentarily lull took me back to the days where our roles as superior and subordinate were the definite demarcation of our relationship. Even when I'd been caught gazing at him, my cheeks flushing an embarrassingly bright red, I couldn't lend a voice to my desires. It was disconcerting that I'd reduced myself to that foolish girl once more, harboring emotions, desires that I'd thought we'd never explore.

Yet we had and I'd evened that playing field with expertise, with a sort of arrogance that befitted someone worthy of engaging the Flame Alchemist. A bit of that arrogance flickered to life and quickly died down as I lifted my eyes, watching him play at the edges of his shirt, freshly showered. The tips of his inky hair were still damp, a lone rivulet chasing downward from his temple. His hair had grown longer in the front adding mystery to an already delectable array of attributes at his disposal. I had to avert my eyes as warmth bloomed, traveling quickly downward. He was every bit as alluring as I remembered and his silent confidence was just a preamble of his prowess.

I shifted my position at my end of the couch, erratically crossing and uncrossing my legs, my brows knit tightly across my forehead, my hands trembling slightly. As if the blindingly torturous headaches weren't enough, my empty stomach lurched, protesting the flutter of nerves that were wreaking havoc. I was only two hours removed from the disaster that was our reunion and my body and mind didn't want to cooperate.

I groaned inwardly. He hadn't even said a word and I was already putty in his expert hands.

But I couldn't lose sight of what was in front of me. Answers, explanations, truth… it was at my fingertips. Curiosity pricked my thoughts and I exhaled heavily, turning to face him fully. A faint smirk ghosted over his lips, provoking a flush of heat to scorch through my body. I turned away from him once more, mortified. I'd been sidelined by my immature musings and held captive to my baser needs.

Yeah, I sure was giving him the what for.

Among the flurry of confusing emotions and thoughts, frustration surged forward. I had to break the stalemate, shatter this eerie silence that had descended between us. Finally deciding to put a pin in the confused school girl act, I turned to him once more and glared at him, at how his smile widened, a tuft of quiet laughter escaping his lips.

I wanted to kiss him.

I wanted to kick his ass.

I wanted to hold his pride in the palm of my hand as I rode him into oblivion.

But I could only stare at him.

Long moments passed as we held each other's gaze, the muted sounds of the city coming to life mingled with the slow ticking of a clock filling the tense space between us. Absently, I thought of the tiny clues, of how time had been the focus of my quest. It reminded me so much of my efforts to reach this moment, the minutes lost to confusion spent chasing the shadows that he'd left in his wake. It was a bit unnerving at first, pinned down by his resolute scrutiny as if contemplating his next move but it didn't last. There was a hint of his old arrogance hovering in that scrutiny, his audacious posture haughty. The reticence and lingering emotion dissipated leaving in its place the dormant embers of annoyance and anger. As if he had the right to look at me like that, like I should believe everything he said merely because _he_ said it. No, he wasn't getting any easy pass this quickly. The air thickened between us, heating slightly as the empty space filled with assumptions and unspoken words.

It didn't take me long to shake the previous uneasiness off.

"So, about those apologies…"

He averted his eyes briefly and shifted his position in the chair slightly before taking in a deep breath. He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly as if measuring his thoughts.

"Um…I suppose I should probably start at the beginning," Roy said quietly. His timorous voice was surprising, the brief ostentatious posture melting into one of remorse. He met my eyes once more, his shining with repentance, "It wasn't fair of me to leave you in the dark on so many things. I should've just told you what was going on."

"That would've cut a lot of shit short, Mustang," I replied viciously. The unforgettable memories of that night surged forth and I clenched my fists tightly as I turned toward him more, "To use me as a launch pad…to use what we did as a smoke screen." My body trembled under the pressure of attempting to keep my fury bound, my eyes hardening as I held his gaze. "It probably wouldn't have hurt as bad if you'd left a couple of bills on the nightstand."

The softness in his eyes filtered into a stony gaze as he shook his head and shot to his feet. He was going to start pacing, something he did when he wanted to maintain composure. Walking toward the sole window in the room, he lifted his hand to shift it through his hair, the silken strands falling easily through his fingertips. I watched him closely as he stared outwardly, his expression funneling through a tempest of emotions, finally settling on awareness. He remained still for long moments, the silence stretching into uncomfortable territory. Perhaps I'd been a bit forward but I wasn't interested in giving him a chance to sugar coating his actions.

"I was a bastard for doing that to you, Edaline but it doesn't lessen what I feel for you, what that meant to me." He blew out a shaky breath and turned to face me again. "It doesn't change how blissful it was, how fulfilled I'd felt… how it tore my heart out to leave you."

"Yet, you did," I answered coolly. I didn't want to be swayed by the ache in his voice but the boiling anger had dimmed to a simmer as I watched him stare out of the window, waiting for him to continue. There was something about his stance about how he allowed long moments to pass before speaking again that didn't sit well with me. I had the feeling that although I'd caught up to him, I'd have more questions than answers when we were through. The tremors of pain yet realized bloomed inwardly and I braced myself for what was coming.

"Yes, I did and there are no words in the Amestrian language to effectively convey how sorry I was for the deception. But that deception was warranted and I had to act quickly."

Instead of drawing nearer as I thought he would he remained where he stood as if gauging the appropriate distance for engagement. He was reading me, determining his approach, his words for the least amount of collateral damage. We'd been through this type of confrontation too many times to count and just like he had his ways of navigating the treacherous minefield of emotions between us, so did I. And I didn't hesitate to use the skills I'd so thoroughly sharpened under his command.

"But why couldn't you come and talk to me? Talk to your team? Do you understand what you've put them through? They believe, Roy…they believe that you've gone AWOL and they are tasked with bringing you in to be executed."

"I know, Ed. I know everything that's going on in Amestris right now. I know that even though I'm not there, I'm still a thorn in the sides of the elite, that every moment I spend breathing, they spend plotting against me." He turned to face me but didn't move, "The powerful will use any means necessary to get what they want, exploit any perceived weakness. You…the team, you all are a weakness because I care. This was the only step I could take to keep you safe."

A knot formed at the base of my throat as I stood swiftly, "I don't need you to keep me safe, Roy! I need you to be truthful, to respect me enough not to use to me. I needed you to be there when I woke up. I needed to _know_ that you'd be there."

His expression faltered briefly before he shook his head and averted his eyes again, his tone low and soft, "I wanted to be there, Ed. I wanted to be there to nurse your hangover, to talk to you, to make love to you again. But…I couldn't afford the risk."

"You keep talking in circles about risks and power and the elite but you're not explaining anything! Explain to me why you gave my resignation to Hughes, why you made him point in this ridiculous wild goose chase into the East." I could feel the frustrations bubbling up once more, teeming with a hint of furor as I stood steadfast, "Why would you send your brother, your _twin brother_ mind you, to find me? Why didn't you tell me you had a twin brother?! Do you know how much shit he's caused since he's been around?"

Roy chuckled lightly and it served only to piss me off more. He held up his hand to stave the inevitable, effectively keeping me in place. "Castor…well, I should've at least told you about Castor. My aunt couldn't handle us both so he was sent to Xing to live with a family that my mother knew. We kept in touch over the years, honing our skills in our respective fields and when I started rising through the ranks, I began to limit our correspondence."

"So, that explains it," I interrupted quickly, "I was wondering where Castor got that weird alchemy from."

"It's not weird, Ed. It's Alkahestry in its purest form," Roy retorted. He narrowed his brow and asked, "Can I get back to it?"

"By all means, Mustang, continue."

"Thank you," he answered gracefully. He sighed lightly and continued, "I didn't want anyone to know about him or what he could do, I wanted him to experience a life without destruction. He would stay in Xing, live peacefully. And for the most part, he did. He carved out his own path in life and continued to grow. As much as he pleaded for me to allow him to come to Central, I wouldn't let him. Too much was going on and I didn't want him caught up in it. It didn't work for long though; two days after The Promised Day, he arrived in Central. Apparently, he'd found out about our little coup and my injuries and wanted to help." I didn't miss the inflection of annoyance in Roy's voice and a tuft of a snicker escaped my lips. Roy smiled and nodded, "He's the epitome of the annoying older brother syndrome. Never did listen."

"Doesn't seem like he's keen on breaking that tradition," I replied blithely. "He has a hard time taking instruction, doesn't he?"

"You're putting it lightly," Roy bantered back, "Cas always believes that he's a step ahead of the game. He's quick, he's calculating…"

"He's you."

"Not quite. He may look like me but we are different in many aspects."

I could concur but I chose to keep that to myself. Be it far from me to spur a bit of sibling rivalry between them. Besides, I had bigger concerns. Even though Roy was opening up, he still hadn't revealed what was going on and why he had to resort to running away.

"So, getting back on track here- we're in the East because…"

"I need you to capture me."

"I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"I said," Roy started as he finally approached me, his lips set in a knowing smirk, "I need you to capture me and I need it to look good. A little birdy told me that Hawkeye's on her way with the others."

"Wait, wait, wait a minute! You left your little map, had me go on a two week tour of the East only to get captured and turned over? Am I missing something here?"

"You're going to take me back to Central and you're going to kick my ass in the process."

"Roy…"

He moved past me toward the door, stopping just short of turning the knob. He turned to me and winked, "Trust me, Ed. I know what I'm doing."

I wasn't so sure of that.


	10. Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

Roy didn't come back.

He'd left me in the room with nothing more than a hollow assurance that he knew what he was doing and a charming smirk, topping off all of his bullshit with an infuriating wink. Never mind that he'd given obscure answers to my questions or that I'd been temporarily blinded by my desires to placate my own baser needs- no what mattered was that he knew what he was doing.

Colonel Roy Mustang _always_ knew what he was doing.

I couldn't help the sarcastic sneer that followed that train of thought.

He knew what he was doing when he'd greeted me that night, knowing how volatile I'd been, choosing to use his considerable talents and tattooing his desires on my heart and psyche. With a remorseful silence shattered by strained echoes of taboo and pleasures, he had played at giving me what I wanted, what I needed.

He knew what he was doing when he'd left his idiotic puzzles and clues like bread crumbs, knowing that my curiosity would best any spurts of anger and get me moving.

He knew what he was doing when he'd purposefully withheld pertinent information, placing my loyalty, my trust in the same lot as the rest of his subordinates. He knew what he was doing when he held me, when he gazed into my eyes, his hazy with equal parts of sensual pleasure and reticence, leaving his doubts solidly about my shoulders, purposefully setting his plan into motion.

I'd surmised that he knew what he was doing when he'd marshaled his brother into action, apparently with orders to watch my back. A brother that I'd no idea existed days before but decidedly knew _everything_ about me. Having me follow his vague instructions, luring me with his phantom platitudes and encouragements, having me traverse hundreds of miles into the east with nothing more than a rudimentary map and a distinct desire to put my foot up his ass- yes, he knew what he was doing.

And he wasn't doing me any favors by leaving me to my wits in this truth forsaken room.

As much as Roy thought he knew what he was doing, there was no way he could account for the unpredictable. There were so many variables, so many tangents that he couldn't predict. Yet he moved as if he knew what the next second held, as if he'd predetermined the path through sheer resolve alone.

Although incensed and still in the dying throes of a hangover, I couldn't dissuade the residual concern that hovered just below the surface of the anger his flippant dismissal had catalyzed. Pacing no longer held its sway and only served to intensify the churning in my stomach and the dull pounding in my head. I opted to wait out Castor's return in repose, positioning with the hopes that it would calm the anxious tittering dancing along my nerves. Perched on the sill, I reached to raise it, allowing the crisp breeze of a fall day wash over me. The foul stench of vomit had been doused with an ample amount of disinfectant and coupled with the cool whisper of the wind; my mind was rapidly clearing of the rampant thoughts of missed calculations and oblivious acts. The nervous tremors that I'd previously attributed to the hangover had finally dissipated as I gazed outwardly, taking in the sights and sounds of a town returning to normal, watching the people as they milled about their lives, blissfully unaware of the machinations of a flamboyant alchemist and his audacious, misplaced pride.

Roy, although brilliant, had this nasty habit of functioning under the presumption of self-sacrifice. Never mind that we were an able lot, never mind that we'd proven our mettle mission after mission or that we'd proven time and again how our loyalty and trust ran concurrent with his vision. He'd been remiss not to include us, the ones he held close, the ones he cherished, in his plan.

Something as inconsequential as protection, protection we didn't need- that I didn't want- had been the catalyst for his horrible decisions. Yet he'd taken on that mantle and easily placed that target squarely on his back, willing to forgo his own safety.

"He's a damned fool," I groused as I leaned against the still. I wrapped my arms about my waist in an effort to quell the uneasiness that had built up once more, its restless tendrils searching for an outlet. I couldn't help but feel as if there was something happening, that even though the bustle of the town denoted normality, there was a sort of disquiet waiting, skirting the shadows. My throat tightened as the tension fused my body rigid as if in preparation for what was coming.

The roar of an engine caught my attention and I leaned forward to get a better look, watching as the caravan of four military trucks sped through the streets, coming to rest right in front of the hotel. The occupants emptied into the street quickly from the back of the trucks, their hands filled with armaments, their faces stoic and focused as they formed a perfect phalanx, awaiting their orders.

It was just as Roy had said, they were coming for him and they were rolling out the red carpet.

A sedan came to a smooth stop just behind the last truck and its doors opened quickly thereafter, revealing one shiny boot then another. I gasped when the blond hair came into view and pulled away from the window when her whiskey brown eyes cast upwards. I closed my eyes and held my breath, the violent pounding of my heart against my chest loud in my ears. It wasn't surprising that they'd sent Riza; she was the epitome of staunch reliability and keen instincts. The upper echelon wanted a job done, and they couldn't have done any better than the Hawk's Eye.

"Squad one and three, take the south, Squad two and four, take the east." She issued orders with ease, firing off directives smoothly, her tone brokering no argument. Although she'd taken point on this, I knew that Riza wouldn't have wanted this job, there were too many unanswered questions and she was pragmatic in her process. She understood the tangible, the truth unvarnished and raw. I suppose it is why she'd come, to be there when they apprehended Roy, to face him, ask the questions that had cloaked her beliefs. We were of two minds on that notion and I suddenly didn't blame her for taking the assignment.

"If you find Colonel Mustang, do not engage," she continued stonily, "we must treat him as any other threat to the state. Exercise extreme caution." The troops gave a rallying cry and the sounds of their boots striking against the street in perfect precision. This was a mission of search and capture; trigger happy peons and an overconfident alchemist rarely made a good mix. The hope for minimal collateral damage dwindled exponentially. I groaned as inched away from the window, its offering of a peaceful lull no longer viable. The streets were about to come alive with fire and destruction and I had to move quickly to avoid the inevitable outcome.

"Dammit, Castor, where are you?" I bit out as I finally stood, preparing myself to move. In response, the clock chimed on the hour, reminding me of what little time I had at my disposal. Deciding to act, I snatched up my suitcase and made for the door just as a deafening blast filled the air. I stopped and turned, pausing for a moment as the cacophony grew shouts and screams followed by the sporadic spray of gunfire filling the air.

Surely he hadn't…

"Take cover! Avoid the flames at all costs!" Another blast sounded and I pelted toward the window, hoping that he wouldn't have acted rashly. I leaned out of the window again only to find the streets filled with billowing smoke, the high pitched screams of terror amplifying the cacophony of chaos and confusion. I traced my gaze from one end of the street to the other, willing the black tendrils of smoke away.

And just like a phantom appearing out of the ether of darkness, he surfaced, his arm outstretched, his fingers poised to snap, and his gaze resolute.

"Call them to stand down, Lieutenant!" I cringed at the familiar, confident timbre, my chest aching at his misplaced sureness. He had the advantage of the shroud of smoke at the moment but it was dissipating quickly. I didn't- couldn't- wait any longer.

I fled the room quickly, slamming the door as I ran for the stairwell, unwilling to wait for a lift. Roy and his crazy ideas… How could he possibly stand against an Army and believe he was going to emerge unscathed?

" _You're going to take me back to Central and you're going to kick my ass in the process…"_

I groaned as I took the stairs by two, nearly launching myself into the air in a rush to get to the battlefield. The more I thought about his asinine ideas and his sickening boldness, the more I was keen on giving him exactly what he wanted. I was going to kick his ass and quite possibly enjoy it to the fullest.

* * *

Swarms of people flooded the hotel in an effort to escape the erupting battle on the street, many of the men, women and children pressing forward to safety, effectively pushing me further away from my intended target. Among the terrified tears and whimpers, the anger intensified and I pushed my way through the surge of citizens, my teeth clenching tighter every passing second. The deafening booms continued in succession, each echoing the dull pounding in my head. Although the hangover was subsiding quickly, I still hadn't reached a level of clarity that I'd feel comfortable with, especially considering I was about to face a most formidable opponent.

Finally free of the cluster of people, I slammed my suitcase down and shoved the jacket off of my shoulders as I focused on the hellish scene beyond the doors. Flashes of yellow, burnished light mingled with hurried, angry orders, the sporadic, infantile report of gunfire easily swallowed by the successive explosions that filled the air. The infantry was no match for the famed Flame Alchemist, practically dooming the untried ranks of the state. If I didn't hurry, Mustang would add another distinction to an already growing list of infamous accomplishments.

"What a fucking mess," I bit out as I burst through the doors. Quickening my steps, I looked both right and left, the black smoke making it hard to distinguish positions. Taking a chance, I turned to my left and started walking, peering through the clouds of smoke and debris, encountering a smattering of soldiers as they maneuvered blindly.

"You should find cover," one solider offered as I passed. We were close enough that I could see his face the cautious, almost timid expression nearly overcome with terror. He held his rifle perpendicular to his body as he stared ahead into the imposing wall of smoke. He was petrified and with every reason; Roy's accomplishments as well as his intimidating demeanor were legendary and every story had the same ending- his triumph and the complete destruction of his enemies.

"I suppose that idiot's up there then." I turned on my heel and passed him again, only stopping when his shaky hand clapped my shoulder in an effort to pull me back. I tossed a searing glare over my shoulder as I shook him off, turning my attention forward, "I think I'll be alright."

"That's Colonel Roy Mustang up there," he pitched back, the strength in his voice wavering even as he caught up to me. "Don't you know who he is?!"

"A bastard but you didn't hear that from—

A sudden, crisp snap filled the air and I pushed the solider away from me as an explosion erupted behind me the blast wave pushing me to the ground. The debris rained down in sheets and I coughed as I glanced over toward the solider. He rocked back and forth on his side before turning toward me and rising, resuming his stance. I had to give it to him, he was a brave soul for not turning tail and running but I couldn't linger on that thought.

"That was fucking close, Mustang!" I bellowed, "Watch your aim, you asshole!"

Silence echoed back as I got to my feet, my eyes steady on his approaching form. He emerged out of the curling smoke, his expression a visage of wrathful determination. His hair swayed in the gentle wind, revealing his darkened blue eyes. There was no levity in his gaze, only silent vehemence as we stared at each other.

A shiver coursed through my body as I repositioned myself, cognizant of the disquiet that ran in tandem with the chaos of his attack. It was eerie how he stared at me, how the traces of his alluring smiles were cloaked with deep creases of disappointment as if I were the offending party. My heart cracked at his relentless scrutiny at how even though he'd planned this, this moment between us was real and it was frightening.

It took everything not to tremble in front of him, to stand my ground and square my shoulders, and face him head on despite the inevitable result. Brief images of his last night in Central played against the shadows of what was to come, the memory of each caress, of the passion that fused us together constricting my breathing. Tears welled as he approached and I turned my lips inward to stave the cry that clawed its way up my throat. I didn't _want_ to hurt him but I needed to hurt him.

I swiped my hair away from my eyes, watching every step closely. I'd sparred with him, watched him strategize, and knew the power behind his alchemy. I didn't kid myself into thinking that this would be easy- it would be damn near impossible.

Yet, it was something I had to do.

I clenched my fists together tightly and exhaled, making every effort to cap my anxiety. This could go wrong twenty million different ways.

"Once again, I'm here to clean up your mess, Mustang." A tuft of dismissive laughter followed, his brow arching cleverly. I inwardly cringed but remained passive, his haughtiness a suitable wick to my growing fury. "Glad to see that you're entertained. Wouldn't want to take you into custody with all frowns, would we?"

"You speak as if you're going to walk away from this, Fullmetal." His lips morphed into yet another form of a smirk, the one I'd rarely seen but fully loathed: Conniving and completely remorseless. He took another step and extended his arm fully. I glanced quickly to my right and moved only to be slammed back by the force of a small explosion. Landing on my back, I coughed, ever mindful of the ominous crunch of his boots as he approached slowly, yet confident through the wall of smoke. "Got a sense of deja vu, Elric? I distinctly remember telling you that you're too slow."

Although my lungs burned, I didn't give him much time to gloat. I flipped up into a perfect somersault out of danger, landing on the balls of my feet, quickly gaining my bearings and catching a glimpse of his form out of the corner of my eye. Thankful for the cloaking smoke, I moved in silently, throwing a well-placed punch to his left cheek. When he listed to the right, I caught him with a round house kick, sending him spinning into the air before he fell with a heavy thud on the hard concrete. He coughed roughly and I couldn't help the smile that emerged as I stalked toward him. Despite my desire not to hurt him, it actually felt good to expend the welled up energy and frustration.

"I've got your too slow right here, Mustang." Careful not to get too close, I watched as he got up slowly, a dull groan issuing from his lips. The trickle of blood out of his mouth caught my eye and for a brief moment, I relented, hating the position he'd put me in. I turned my hip toward him and held my hands up, readying for his attack, "Make this easier for us, Colonel. Stand down."

 _Us_.

A sense of dread funneled through my body at that single word, its meaning etching itself into my soul. I was a part of something passionate, something volatile...something I needed. And I was about to shatter all of that in short order.

He spat out the blood, his cold blue eyes seething with unmitigated fury, "Cute, you telling me to stand down, Major." He corrected his form and held his hands up, with one palm upward. He flipped his fingers as an invite, his deceitful smile seguing into a despicable smirk, "You got that one for free, Elric. But you'll have only one."

"Keep counting, Colonel Bastard."

From there, it was a battle of wills and preservation. We struck out at each other, our lunges and dodges forming a complicated but deadly dance. Every punch landed, every kick that connected cracked our crumbling façade further, the stress and physicality wearing us down. We were a tempest of sound and fury, a spectacle that had garnered the attention of the soldiers still left standing. And I heard their cheers when a particularly vicious upper cut sent Roy into the air, his bruised and battered body flipping once before it landed face down. I watched through the blood that seeped through my scalp, my ribs and limbs aching as he moved once before giving in.

Congratulatory slaps on the back coupled with the rousing victorious cheer echoed hollowly in my ear as a couple of soldiers bound and bagged his hands behind him, roughly lifting him to his feet. I ignored the repulsive merriment, the boisterous voices sending sharp pains through my chest. My eyes stayed on him, on his marred face, the dark purplish hue taking over much of the right side, its eye swollen shut. I clapped my hands against my mouth in a frantic dash to swallow the grief that welled, disgusted and destroyed by my hand in his downfall.

Once a decorated hero, his attributes and accomplishments diminished was nothing more than fodder now. Nothing more than a condemned man defeated.

Nausea gripped my throat tightly and I listed to the right and then left before falling forward. There was nothing left for me to do except hope and wait to see if Roy truly knew what he was doing.

Drifting away, I heard Riza's muffled voice above me, "Rest now, Edaline. You've done well."

Bullshit, I thought as I turned to face the sky. The smoke was clearing rapidly, revealing a perfect blue sky, a mocking sight considering the darkness that was descending.

We were an _us_ before, now it was just...me.

So, no I didn't deserve rest and I hadn't done well at all. I'd failed the most important part of me.

My heart.

TBC


	11. Chapter 10

**A/N: And we're back! My excuse is the holidays, writer's block, new fandoms popping up, and general disinterest- not necessarily in that order. BUT, we are returning to our regularly scheduled programming with a vengeance. Enjoy!**

 **Warning: Violence and Ed's mouth.**

 **Disclaimer: Not making a dime. Not one.**

 **Chapter Ten**

Three days.

Only three days and I'd found myself back where I started from, sitting at the bar, staring into my drink, the images and sensations experienced on my goose chase flooding my thoughts. After nearly three weeks of chasing the bastard over all of creation, I'd managed to find myself back where I started: Drowning my thoughts and burdens in the bottle.

A bitter tuft of laughter escaped my lips as I lifted the glass to my lips, taking a generous gulp of liquor and enjoying the way it blazed a path downward. Damn Mustang and his elaborate plans of mystery and intrigue, machinations only his pea brain understood. The familiar raucous laughter and jaunty music filled the air and my ear, effectively drawing me out of the doldrums of destructive thoughts. I was chaotic, disillusioned, and thoroughly pissed and try as I might, I couldn't figure out what part I'd played in Mustang's game.

Mustang.

I grimaced tightly. Even the thought of his name burned, the memories of his jaw giving away under my fist stoking the flames of my fury. As much as I'd wanted to mete out his punishment in the most violent manner, I hadn't felt an iota of satisfaction. After everything, all of the clues, the exasperation, I was no closer to the truth- or Mustang for that matter. And judging by the tight rein the state had on him, the next time I saw him would probably be on the execution field.

"Fucking Mustang and his games." The ice clinked as I slung the glass upward and drained its contents. As if on cue, a familiar face stepped up and poured more of the amber liquid, his congenial smile saying more than words ever would. I returned his smile and lifted the glass in a silent gesture of gratitude knowing that under his watchful eye I'd be safe. With that knowledge, I knocked the drink back again, careful not to guzzle it down too quickly. Although finding my peace inside a bottle, I was in no shape to walk the path of ignominy all by my lonesome.

"Running again?"

I slammed the glass down on the bar and shook my head. Even if David understood, that didn't necessarily mean that I wanted to spill my guts. With eyes averted and screwed closed, I waved him off, my chest burning from more than the alcohol. Chasing the memories with the drink was a bad idea but so was reliving the moment those damned eyes held mine or the excruciating sensation of my deliberate strikes landing true.

I exhaled lightly and lifted my head, slowly opening my eyes to see David standing patiently, his drying towel in hand and leaning forward. I didn't miss that he'd shuffled the liquor bottle out of sight and that he'd pushed another glass forward, this one filled with water. "It's never as bad as you think it is, young lady. Things will work themselves out. You just have to have faith."

"So, all I have to do is think good thoughts and all of my problems just disappear?"

I winced inwardly at the sharp tone but didn't linger on that too long. My emotions were intertwined with my thoughts, swallowing reasoning. Confusion and hurt were running in tandem, claiming dominion over my being realizing that I was in no better place than I was almost three weeks ago. Why did he pull such an elaborate scheme only to leave me, yet again, in the dark? What was his play? What had he been after aside from a sound ass kicking? The fury scratched for the surface, pairing nicely with the flashing images of Roy spinning away from me, an arc of blood spraying out of his mouth.

"If it were that easy, I'd be out of business," David chortled, pulling me out of my downward spiral. Our eyes met and even though annoyed I couldn't help the small smile that painted my lips. He was so relatable, so affable that it was easy to relax around him. His eyes, framed by tufts of sandy blond hair with grey stripes interspersed, crinkled at the edge, the wrinkles somehow bringing out the complacent gaze of a man who'd lived and learned through his mistakes- and probably a few others. It was that experience that made him the perfect fit for a place like this where people often came to forget all the terrible shit in their lives.

We sat there for long moments just looking at each other the silence nearly deafening even in such a rowdy place. Pinned under his observant stare I swallowed thickly, desperately pushing down the desire to purge the caustic emotions that ate at my sensibilities.

I leaned forward and exhaled wearily, "Ever wished that you could go back and stop something before it happened?"

"Ah, so we're talking about regrets then." David took a step back and glanced around his establishment, his keen eyes taking in the debauchery that surrounded him. When his eyes came back to me, he shook his head, "Regrets make us who we are, mold our experiences, and temper our reactions. What is life without the mistakes that fuel our decisions?"

"I'm not nearly drunk enough to debate philosophy, David."

"No debate here, young lady. Just a different perspective is all." He began wiping the bar, his voice nearly too soft to hear, "Understand that the decisions you've made are yours to square with and ultimately to live with. The question becomes, can you live with what you've decided?"

"Good question." It was one that I wasn't sure that I could answer at the moment. I couldn't help but think about Roy and how we'd always been thrown against each other through the maelstrom our tribulations and how it changed us. There was this thrum of primal need that coursed through us and it was electric, deliciously addictive, and terribly unpredictable. He hadn't said _those_ words, yet it was evident in the way we moved. In how we related to each other when we were together and how ridiculously wrong we were for each other yet how contented we'd been just to be in one another's presence, riding the ebb and flow of our own volatile current.

But…did that spell love?

And a better question was did I want _his_ love?

I pondered on that thought, staring sightless into the chipped wood as the world faded around me. What exactly did he think love was? Was it nothing more than his shadowy mind games and alluring yet deceitful touches? Or was there something more hovering just beneath the surface of this façade, some unknown and untapped part of him he feared would limit his ability to remain just out of my reach?

Ugh, relationships were fucking difficult and too complex for me to deliberate sober.

I could rectify that in short order. My eyes shifted toward the multitude of bottles and back to David, my lips turning upward into a crafty grin even as I pulled my wallet out and slapped it against the bar. David shook his head and reached for the bottle in question while smoothly producing a new glass, deftly adding a few cubes of ice. The questionable gaze soon segued into one of reluctance as he poured the drink, the sound of the liquid hitting the glass making me giddy. Money trumped rational thought at this juncture and as much as David wanted to spare me, he wouldn't intercede prematurely. He may have taken a liking to me but, ultimately, my turmoil was the currency that paid the bills.

"Just don't overdo it," he huffed. I lifted my glass to him in acknowledgment and he responded with an annoyed snap of his towel and tossed it onto his shoulder as he turned away, leaving me with my bounty for the night. I knew that he would keep his eyes on me for the duration of my stay.

I set about my business, funneling drinks quickly as the gaiety and raucous noise filled the air around me adding to the chaos that reigned within me. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw his steely blues stark in their defiance as he stared back. He'd assured me that he had it planned, that our fight would be nothing more than a farce. But it felt real. He'd played his part perfectly, attacking with such fervor that if I didn't know better, I'd swore he had been serious.

Of course, it had to be serious if it were to be believed. It sickened me that he'd put me in this position, tormented by conflict of heart and mind, posited to sit back and watch idly as he ruined his life -and by default, mine As confident I'd been in his intelligence, his strategy was sorely lacking. It left me confounded and irritated. There was no way around the fact that Roy Mustang still held the marionette's strings and was selfishly pulling me at his whim.

"Goddamn you, Roy," I mumbled sloppily. It had taken less than an hour and a half but I was nearly there, the blessed numbing sensation that accompanied these excursions into darkness. What a fucked up way to cope.

I reached to pour another drink but was foiled by a quicker hand, the bottle seemingly disappearing right before my eyes. I turned quickly to my right, my eyes narrowing at the offender as he placed the bottle further out of my reach. I targeted the bottle, doing my very best to ignore the person who sat next to me, puzzling out an effective way to steal back what was rightfully mine.

"I think you've had enough, Elric." His green eyes glinted cleverly behind his spectacles, his lips turned up in a deceptively placid smile, "You're going to want your wits about you for this."

Annoyed, I inched closer, fully prepared to reach across him and frowned when he countered by pushing the bottle further away. It was plain to see, short of instigating a fight- something I'm sure David would not appreciate- that he had me pinned squarely under his thumb. Tempted to throw a punch, I instead withdrew slowly and shifted away from him, my eyes settling on the empty glass before me, "Again with the obtuse riddles, Hughes? Have nothing better to do with your time?"

Hughes laughed gently as he leaned toward me, "Just trying to save our country is all." He moved to stand, taking up my arm. I held my ground, casting a deadly gaze toward him. He met it with all of the joviality of a jester, his smile hiding just a hint of duplicitous intent. "Trust me you're going to want to come with me, Edaline."

It was then that I took note of his wardrobe; instead of the familiar military uniform, Maes wore a plain dark suit paired innocuously with a jade colored button down disingenuously downplaying the air of mystery that surrounded his presence. He smiled again and nodded toward the back door and I sighed, not really in the mood for this cloak and dagger shit- _again_ \- but moved just the same. I glanced back at David, catching his worried expression and shook my head, giving him my best smile.

Maes tugged on my arm and I quickened my step as we wound through the drunk and disorderly, catching a random elbow here and a slap there. In what seemed like an eternity, we finally exploded out into the open, the faint sounds of revelry diminishing as the door eased closed. Free of the bar, I snatched my arm away from Maes and took a deep breath hoping that my head would stop spinning before I ventured to speak.

* * *

"We have to move quickly, Ed. The window of opportunity isn't infinite or easy to come by." He regarded me with a sardonic expression, one that really pissed me off. Knowing him he was doing it just to prod at my already raw nerves, the bastard. "I'm going to shed a bit of light on the situation."

"I thought that your hands were tied, Hughes." He ignored me and started walking and I followed, noticing that he favored the shadows as we wound our way through the streets of the city. Apparently, he wasn't as free to move about as I thought. Coming to the end of a nondescript alley, he stopped and peered around the corner, his attention solely on the decrepit building in front of him. For long moments, he stared, holding his arm back to keep me from stepping out into the street. The foot traffic was nonexistent and less than a few cars had passed. Curious and every bit annoyed at Maes' silence, I pinched his bicep tightly. His hissing response satisfied me more than I cared to admit and a small burst of laughter spilled from my lips. He glared back at me and I slapped my hand over my mouth and shrugged.

"If you're done, Elric."

"I'm not the one sneaking around in the dark, Hughes," I shot back quickly. "Mind telling me why we're dancing around deserted streets and clocking a rundown building?"

Maes turned again, his focus centering on the opposite side of the street. A lone man emerged from the adjacent alley, standing just outside of the demarcated darkness. A brief orange glow illuminated his face as he lit a cigarette and stowed the lighter in his pocket, taking a drag and blowing smoke. The nameless man cast his gaze up the street before turning to walk southward. I frowned as I watched him, easily noticing that he wasn't loitering- he was patrolling.

"Maes, what the fuck are we doing out here? What's going on in that building?" I grasped at his arm and tugged him backwards. He slapped me away and I, being the little shit I was, slapped him back. He matched the hits in a flurry of motion.

"Dammit, Edaline, we don't have time for this!"

"Then tell me what's going on, Maes!?"

"You're acting like a child, Elric." He'd finally grabbed my hands and pulled me closer to him, toppling over the trash in the process. The commotion echoed in the empty darkness, pulling the attention of the lone man on the street. Maes leaned out slightly, catching a glimpse of the man walking back toward us. He then pushed me aside, plastering himself against the wall in an effort to hide us from view.

I pushed his hand away again and moved, a bit miffed, "It's just one man, Hughes. We can take him out easily."

"A little finesse there, Ed." He peered outwardly, "C'mon…c'mon."

"Maes, what the he–"

My query died on my lips as I felt the pulse of energy and a flare of light. I leaned forward to get a better look only to see a man fleeing into the shadows. I gave chase, leaving Maes behind, my feet pounding on the pavement. Adrenaline flowed through my body giving way to startling clarity as I approached the prone body, pausing briefly to take note of the singe marks before continuing on. Racing in front of me was the shadowed figure moving deftly through the darkness, their long strides hindering my pursuit. I growled as I came to a complete stop, my chest heaving from the exertion. Without thinking, I clapped my hands and sunk to my knees, watching as the asphalt erupted under my palm.

"ED NO!"

A sinister smile rose as I projected the spikes, watching with a certain amount of satisfaction as they ate up the distance with ease, knocking the figure down. Assured that my quarry wasn't going anywhere, I walked forward, brushing my hand against the brick, pulling at the materials to form a solid staff. I was tired of being jerked around and was more than willing to take out my frustrations on whoever I was chasing.

"I don't know who you are but you're about to make up for a shitty night," I called out. Silence echoed through the dank alley and I approached cautiously, unsure of what to expect. A faint groan rose as I got closer and I tightened my grip on the staff, readying to engage. The closer I got, the better I could see and I watched as the person moved slowly to lean up against the wall, just barely able to make out his profile obscured partly by the encroaching blackness of the inky night. I brought the staff up in a defensive position, moving slower even as my heart crashed against my chest, "Look, I don't want to kick your ass so let's just take this slow."

A set of arms grasped me around my waist and hauled me upward before slamming me against the wall. I grit my teeth against the pulsating pain that shot through my body, grimacing as my attacker shoved his arm against my throat. I turned to see the figure starting off at a run and cursed under my breath as the shadows swallowed him once more. My throat tightened as the pressure increased and dark spots peppered my line of sight. I caught a whiff of his stale breath as he leaned inward, emitting a rough growl.

"Don't know who you are but ever heard of wrong place, wrong time?" He pushed further and I dropped my staff to claw at his meaty forearm. He sneered, mocking my attempts to escape. "Stepped in it, did you?"

With both hands, I pulled at his arm to no avail and I was quickly losing consciousness, the dark spots growing. I closed my eyes as I kicked out, hitting nothing but air. A hint of panic surfaced as my thoughts ran rampant the echoes of earlier regrets mixing in almost seamlessly. I couldn't die here, not now. Not before I figured out the enigma that was Roy Mustang.

Where the hell was Maes?

A strangled sound filled my ear followed by a rush of air as the pressure decreased by a measure. I opened my eyes to see my attacker staring at me, his eyes wide and tainted with equal amounts of alarm and pain. Seconds later, he dropped me completely and I fell to my knees, gasping for breath. I looked up in time to see the glint of the knife as it was pulled out of his neck, loosening a fine mist of blood spray as it painted the wall above me. The body fell away, revealing his assailant.

"Ed, are you okay?" Maes asked as he crouched down beside me. I eyed the body before me and then looked up at him, my vision still somewhat cloudy. Maes regarded the now deceased attacker and exhaled wearily, "And here I thought I could do this without any collateral damage." He clicked his tongue dismissively, "Between you and Mr. Show Off I should've known that was impossible."

"Fucking hilarious, Maes," I croaked. He offered his hand as he stood to his full height and I thought twice about taking it, instead keeping my eyes focused on his other, more lethal hand, the blood dripping off of the blade.

"Don't worry," he said as he proffered his hand once more, "This isn't for you." I took it and he pulled me up slowly, pulling me close to look me over, "Did he hurt you?"

"What, you mean other than trying to strangle me to death?" I groused irritably. Swallowing hurt and speaking wasn't that much easier. Just the effort was agonizing enough.

"Yeah, you're alright," Maes countered derisively. He glanced to his right and then to his left, listening. When he was satisfied that no one was coming, he released me and started walking back to the mouth of the alley, once again looking to his left and right. He turned back to me and gestured to the adjacent building, "Before your little adventure, I was leading you here."

I took a step back and gazed at the building, taking note of its state of disrepair. The windows that weren't shattered were boarded up and the brick façade was crumbling, leading me to believe that no one had occupied this space in a long time. Confused, I shook my head, "It's a fixer upper, that's for sure."

"Always the smart ass," Maes returned blithely. He emerged from the alley and walked up the stoop as if he owned the place.

"Mind telling me what the hell's going on?"

Maes pulled another blade from his back and turned to face me, "I'll explain in a minute." The sound of feet pounding against the rotting boards echoed through the desolate silence and he grinned, his expression unnerving, "I have to subdue our remaining friends first, then we'll go see him."

 _Him?_

"What are you getting at?"

"Roy. They're holding him here." Maes peered into the darkness, "Stay close and whatever you do, don't transmute anything and for Truth's sake, don't say my name."

"Uh, okay?" Wait a minute… "Wait, what?"

Maes exhaled and moved forward, "Pick up your jaw from the floor and be ready to move on my mark." The first of the clamoring men appeared and Maes bellowed, "NOW!"

I followed along as Maes silently dispatched the men without spilling a single drop of blood. Once the floor was cleared, he moved toward a staircase that led both up and down and gestured to the stairs leading downward, "We should be fine from here on out. Counting the fried guard and the one in the alley, there were only eight scheduled to be here tonight?"

"Are you asking me or…"

"Smart ass," Maes repeated. Even though it was pitch dark, I could just hear him smirking. I moved past him and looked at the darkened staircase and then back to Maes. Maes nodded and placed a guiding hand on my back, "I'll stay up here and watch out for any stragglers. Thanks to that little light show, I can't be sure if there is a backup squad." I hesitated and he shook his head, "Roy's being detained in the first room to the left of the stair case. As much as you want to see him free, it is imperative that you do not touch him."

"This is bullshit, Maes!"

"This is exactly how he wanted to play this out," Maes countered stiffly. "Trust him he knows what he's doing. He wanted to see you and well, this was the only way we could figure out how to make it happen."

"If I hear another word about how he knows what he's doing, I swear, I'll rip your tongue out."

"No need to get violent, Ed."

"Fuck you, Maes." I stepped toward the darkness and frowned, "When this is over, I'm going to kill him." Maes' laughter echoed behind me as I descended further into the shadowy realm of unknowns, determined to get to the bottom of all of this.

TBC…

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